Who we are beneath the Masks
by Jackie May
Summary: A story about two men hiding behind heroes, and an unfortunate event in 1975 that forces them to to look inward.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: This fan fiction ties into my first fic; "The Price of Guilt." This story picks up where the 'story within a story' in my other fic leaves off. It is however, a separate story dealing with a different theme. Since I already wrote about the incident leading into this fic I will not go into it again in great detail. This fic will have chapters, unlike its predecessor. Also note, it takes place in 1975, not too long after the Blair Roche incident. Thanks! Enjoy!

*As we all know, this is pure fandom, no characters are owned by me.*

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"Who _are _you?"

The question lingered in Daniel Dreiberg's mind as he sunk into the antique leather chair in his spare bed room. He lifted his head, heavy with exhaustion, and stared at the man who lay unconscious in the guest bed before him. The man was his crime-fighting partner; Rorschach, real name unknown. A man who he had worked with for years but who's face he had never seen. Even now his mask was on. Dan dared only roll it up to the nose so that his fallen partner could breathe easier. _You'll need to be here for a while._ Dan thought to himself. _Perhaps…just perhaps… I can figure out who you really are._

He glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was 5:30 am. Outside the city was just beginning to wake. "Finally…This horrific night is over." He groaned, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. It had, with out a doubt, been the worst night he had ever experienced in the whole of his vigilante career, and there had been some bad ones. It was a gang bust gone dreadfully wrong, one that left Dan very badly bruised, and Rorschach nearly dead. The imagery was still painfully fresh in his mind; blood everywhere, all over the owl ship, all over him, and Rorschach's nearly naked body on the floor before him, torn open and shot twice. _It figures I'd see his guts before I saw his face…_ Dan smirked at the dark irony. He sank back into the chair, unable to think any further, as his body relented to sleep.

_* * *_

"...Daniel"

"…err….what…?" Dan groaned, not wanting to open his eyes, still craving more sleep.

"Dan…iel…." a weak attempt was followed by a ragged cough preceding an agonizing inhalation through clenched teeth.

"Rorschach!" Dan sat straight up as his awareness returned to him. His eyes darted to the clock. It was almost 4:00pm. "Ahhggghh…" Dan winced, the inevitable soreness from the night before was complicated by sleeping in a chair for nearly ten hours. "Hey there… am I ever glad to hear your voice." He said warmly as he approached his partner. "I know this is going to sound like a really stupid question, but… How are you feeling?" He sat down on the edge of the bed next to his wounded friend.

"….bad…"

Dan nodded sympathetically. "You're really lucky to be alive, you lost an insane amount to blood…"

"yeah…can tell…feel cold, weak." Rorschach's speech was slow and slightly slurred. The heavy sedatives Dr. Manhattan had used on him had apparently not worn off yet. Dan sensed that his partner was not in the mood or condition to argue, or snap back with his usual fierceness , so he took the opportunity to explain to him his 'situation' . "Rorschach…your injuries are pretty severe. You've been shot twice and you were knifed really badly… You also have a concussion, and several cracked and broken ribs. On top of it all you've lost a lot of blood, so you're anemic. Your wounds are sealed and the bullets are out, but you are not going to be well for a long time. Bones take time to mend, your brain needs to recover from that hit you took to the head, and even though the wounds are closed, they are not healed." Dan looked down at Rorschach's half-masked face, he was silent except for a shallow wheezing.

"You will not be able to return to 'work' for at the very least a month…more likely six weeks…" Dan continued cautiously. " and…I want you to stay here until I'm confident you won't…damage yourself any further."

"…hurm…" The familiar low grumble was actually a welcome response. Dan feared at the worst he would try to get up and leave immediately. "…can't argue now…don't think I can walk…maybe tomorrow…" Rorschach whispered hoarsely. Dan laughed softly and gently patted Rorschach's shoulder, feeling him tense slightly, his usual apprehension towards human contact still prevalent. Then he stood, smileing with relief that it was a new day and both he and Rorshach were alive to argue.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: Thanks for the reviews everyone! I've decide to keep to fairly short chapters. That way I can update more frequently for everyone. Will try to have the next chapter sometime next week! :)

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"I'm going to go downstairs and get you something to drink. Do you need anything else?" Dan asked as he stepped towards the bedroom door.

"yes…" Rorschach answered, with a clear hesitation.

"Sure, anything." Dan responded, feeling strangely happy that his partner was humbled enough to ask for something.

"Need to use the restroom… help me get up…please." The shame in the masked vigilante's tone was palpable. This was hell for him.

"Oh hey, I'm sorry! Should have figured, we've been sleeping for like half a day!" Dan tried to reply as casually as possible to make light of what he knew was a miserably humiliating request in the masked hero's mind. Rorschach said nothing, only laid there silent. Dan approached him, and as gently as he could manage, lifted the injured man first into a seated position, then to his feet. Dan had to practically carry him as he walked him the short distance out of the room and across the hall. He was completely unable to support his own weight, shaking, wincing in pain, and clutching his side with his good arm, the other one with a gunshot wound to the shoulder, hung like dead weight. "You are in sorry shape my friend." said Dan sympathetically as he helped Rorschach into the bathroom.

"Leave."

"You can't be serious. If I let go of you, you are going to fall. You just have to take a leak right? I'm only going to hold you up, I won't look at you, I swear. I'll look over there" Dan gestured to the shower area. Rorschach answered with something that sounded like a growl. "Look man, you'll fall. I mean it, I'm holding you up completely. You'll fall and smash your head on the sink or something, and you'll die in my bathroom. How about that? Is that how you want your life to end? " Dan laughed as he spoke, feeling a twinge of frustration rising to the surface. There was a moment's silence.

"fine…look away…"

Dan chuckled victoriously and looked away, still keeping one arm firmly around the smaller man's torso. He waited patiently, staring at the shower until his partner had finished. "Alright, lets get you back in bed--" Dan stopped short as he turned back to face Rorschach. He had his tee-shirt lifted up to his chest and was examining a long line of cotton, gauze, and tape running from well below his navel up to his pectoral muscle. "big cut…" Rorschach said slowly. "hurts…want to lay down… head feels strange…" Dan felt what little strength his partner had gathered disappear as his body went limp. Dan quickly caught him and lifted him up. _Poor thing…he's really a mess. _Dan thought as carried his partner back to the bedroom. It was a surreal thing to see Rorschach in such a helpless state, but there was a part of Dan that was completely fascinated with this powerless version of the ferocious vigilante.

"Sorry about that… fainted,…not well…not well at all…shameful" Rorschach whispered as Dan set him back in the guest bed. "There is nothing for you to be sorry about. You said it yourself, you're not well. But its alright. I'm going to look after you. You'll get better soon." Dan replied warmly. "I'm going to get you some water now, I'll be right back."

"Thanks." Rorschach replied in a scarcely audible tone, his head turned away, facing the window. Dan could tell all of this was testing the limits of what his partner could tolerate, and he could also tell there was part of him that wished he had died out there rather then suffer this humiliation. "Hey, its just me here. We're partners…we look after each other. No shame in that." Dan stated firmly and turned to leave the room.

Rorschach slept away the next day, declining food and conversation, and only begrudgingly allowing Dan to force him a glass of water every few hours. Dan spent most of the evening and the following day reading up on how to treat anemia, concussions, and broken ribs; what to eat, what vitamins to take, how much sleep one should have. He left Rorschach alone for the most part, knowing it was in his best interests to rest, but he couldn't help but check on him somewhat obsessively. He wasn't used to having anyone in his home for more then a few hours. Especially not someone so gravely ill. Despite all of Rorschach's strangeness Dan couldn't help but feel happy at the prospect of having him around for a while. Over the last year he had noticed a distinct change in his fellow crime-fighter, he had become somehow disjointed, and distant, even more so then he had been in the past. It had been nagging Dan for a while but he never had the courage to confront Rorschach about it. He hoped that during this time together he try could figure him out, perhaps even find a way to help.

It was Tuesday, a sunny early October afternoon. The second day with his new temporary roommate. Dan was sitting at the desk in his spare bed room, a yellow flip-top note pad in front of him. Rorschach was propped up in bed with a few pillows, mask rolled up to the bridge of his nose, munching on dry Cap'n Crunch cereal out of a plastic bowl Dan had put on the night stand for him. He had finally agreed to eat something."Okay, so the books say you'll need iron…so you can make more red blood cells. Beans have a lot of iron.. and I've seen you eat beans before. I'll get some of those…You'll need to eat pretty balanced diet if your going to get better. I'll get a variety of things… Is there anything you really don't like so I can make a note not to buy it?" Dan looked up from his shopping list. Rorschach paused and then tossed a piece of cereal at him. "This cereal……not very good…like peanut butter kind better…will eat anyway though…"

"You did not just do that." Dan said incredulously. Rorschach pitched another small sweetened corn puff at him, hitting him square in the forehead. Dan stared blankly for a few seconds as his partner returned to eating the cereal, completely straight-faced. Dan couldn't stifle a wide grin. _Am I detecting a sense of humor? _"Alright man, Peanut Butter this time. I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Notes:

Hello everyone! Once again there are references in this chapter to my other fic the Price of Guilt, so read it if you want to understand the Laurie stuff. Also a note from the last chapter, peanut butter cap't crunch did in fact exist in 1975. (had someone ask about that) ALSO I just want to put a light warning here. This chapter gets just a little slashy...but I promise it fits in with the rest of the story. I hope I did'nt just scare off some readers... anyhow, Enjoy!

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Dan returned after what was easily the longest grocery run he had been on as far back as he could recall. He had never really needed to shop for anyone other then himself, and had to admit, he might have gone a bit overboard. It was a lovely day, one of those fall days that feels like summer, one to be savored. He cheerfully opened the kitchen windows and turned on the radio. "Stairway to Heaven" was playing, a favorite of his. He sang along loudly as he put away the plethora of food he had carefully selected. _Why am I in such a good mood? _He wondered as he set a bag of lentils in the cabinet. Dan paused for a moment, his mind lingering on the thought as Robert Plant's shrill vocals accelerated to his characteristic wale, and were then abruptly interrupted by the phone.

"Hello?" Dan answered as he turned down the radio, a little sad that he'd miss the rest of the song.

"Dan, Hi. Its Laurie." A friendly voice answered.

"Hey! How are ya?" Dan replied merrily.

"Uh, I'm fine. Y-You sound good! I'm glad to hear it. I was worried about you…You and Rorschach that is. I gotta admit I'm a little taken aback at how good you sound after the other night."

"Ah Hell, I dunno. It must be the weather. Rorschach is still in pretty awful shape, but I think he'll be alright."

"Hey, I'm in the neighborhood…I was thinking about you last night. I figured you have your hands full. So I have some stuff for you…Its not much, I made some cookies for you guys, and Jon managed to get me some prescription strength painkillers for blot-face. Are you busy?"

"N-No, No! I'm, uh.. _We're_ home. Come right over, that's really, really sweet of you."

"Okay! I'll be by in a few minutes."

By the time Laurie arrived Dan had finished putting away the groceries and was sitting outside on his front steps enjoying unseasonably warm sun. He watched her round the corner, tall, slim, and undeniably beautiful. He felt a slight anxiousness at the sight of her. He always did. He knew he had a sort of school-boy crush on the "Silk Spectre" but he would no sooner move in on Manhattan's territory then he would leap in front of a subway. He cheerfully invited her inside, taking the small bag of provisions she had brought for them and setting it on the kitchen table. They sat together in the living room, chatting idly for about a half hour, before Laurie indicated that she had some other errands to run.

"Thanks so much for the cookies! and the painkillers too, He needs them. Poor guy's a mess. Oh hey do you want to say hi? He's upstairs" The second he said it Dan knew he had made a mistake. Laurie always seemed nervous around Rorschach, and likewise Rorschach almost certainly did not want visitors. As he feared Laurie replied politely; "S-sure. Yeah. I could say hi." Dan nodded, cursing himself mentally. The two went upstairs and Dan gestured for her to wait a moment as he went to check and see if his partner was awake. He hoped he wasn't, then he'd have an excuse to not to bring Laurie in.

Dan opened the door slightly. At first he was unable to tell if Rorschach was awake. He was still propped up as he had left him, his head was turned towards the window, mask still rolled up to the nose, a shallow wheezing the only noise to break the silence. Then he turned and spoke slowly, in his usual low monotone.

"Hello Daniel"

"Hey Rorschach. Uhh…you have a visitor… She brought you some medicine, and err, cookies" Dan spoke quickly, smiling a bit too much.

"visitor?"

Laurie walked in swiftly, sensing the awkwardness of the situation. "Hey there!" She blurted out clumsily. "I brought some stuff for you and Dan…I was a bit worried about you guys. I hope you like chocolate chip cookies." She stopped a good five feet from the bed as if the wounded man could somehow pounce on her.

"Thank you Miss Juspeczyk… Very kind of you." Rorschach answered quietly, then turned back towards the window.

"O-Okay, well, I uh, guess I'll let you get some rest. Um…See you around Rorschach." Laurie turned quickly and left the room. Dan breathed a long sigh of relief as he lead her down the stairs, things did not go nearly as badly as he feared they could. He gave her a timid embrace as he opened the front door, thanking her again. Once she had left he exhaled deeply and looked towards the stairs. He could feel a definite twinge of guilt in his gut. If only he could feel happy as he did earlier. _Why was I so happy? _He wondered again.

Uncertain of what to do, he opened the bag Laurie had brought and found the painkillers. He proceeded to the kitchen and filled a tumbler with water before heading up to the guest room. Nervously he turned the knob and stepped into the room. An abrupt shock ran through him as he entered to see Rorschach out of bed, leaning heavily on the dresser, tense and shaking.

"Where… is my uniform…" The masked vigilante snarled. His voice laden with the viciousness he saved for underworld scum.

At first Dan felt his muscles reflexively tighten and his fists clench, ready to defend himself, but quickly the nerves subsided. _He's all bark…there's no bite in him now._ Rorschach was doing all he could to hold himself upright. Right now he was just a small wounded man in a white cotton tee-shirt and drawstring pajama pants, not the beast he was on the streets, though he was trying very hard to seem like it. Dan set down the glass of water and pills, then moved in very slowly, as one would a approach an abused mad dog.

"Easy…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--"

"Where is it!!" Rorschach hissed venomously.

"Its destroyed. You were all cut up remember?…I've ordered you two new suits though. they'll be ready in a few weeks." Dan answered calmly, still moving forward.

"Let me out…need to go… can't be humiliated an further… Should have died…better that way"

Dan was only a yard from him now, he could see the smaller man shuddering with every thin inhalation, how his weak frame wavered as he desperately tried to keep himself upright. "You are alive,.. Alive my friend…and I'm going to keep you that way." Dan whispered, feeling a tightness growing in his chest. _Why does it hurt so much to see you this way? Why does it hurt so much to see someone who is so inconsiderate, so icy cold, and so difficult to get close to suffer?_

"Get away from me…"Rorschach growled.

"No."

Dan lunged forward, covering the space between them the blink of an eye. He quickly seized the injured man and pulled him close, embracing him as he would a brother if he had one. He could feel the cold body against his, heart pounding, every fiber tensed. Dan held him firmly but very carefully, not wanting squeeze his battered rib cage or put any pressure on the still tender lacerations and bruises.

"There may come a day when I cannot protect you… But this is not that day,… I knew it would come to this…please… Please Don't fight me…" Dan whispered, each word spoken in slow measured syllables. "I know...I know there is nobody waiting up for you where ever you go when you aren't Rorschach…you don't need to tell me that for me to know…" Dan carefully began to edge back towards the bed. "I know you don't have a day job anymore…like I suspected you did once…back when you still used full sentences…and you didn't smell like death every night." Dan was now laying Rorschach back on the sheets, still firmly holding him. "You've never revealed anything to me…although I've asked…I've asked so many times…" Dan could feel tears growing warm in his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let his weakness come to the surface. "but I still know…I know you are alone. I know I'm all you have."

There was long silence, a weighted silence, a silence only cut by Rorschach's raspy wheezing. The man who called himself the Nite Owl was poised over his partner staring down at him. Emotions coursed through him, ranging everywhere from rage, to hatred, to despair, to a strained terrible love. With a trembling hand he reached out and grasped the fabric of the black and white mask. "Who…are… you…"

"Daniel…" The voice was soft, pleading, all the fury spent. "…under there…is nobody… Nobody worth seeing."

His hand paused, moments passed, and finally Dan released Rorschach and sat up, staring at a ceiling, the gravity of the moment gradually dissipating. "I'm so sorry…" he managed a choked whisper, and turned to look back at his partner expecting Rorschach's rage to resurface, his actions were far to bold not to have consequences.

"No need to be. You are right. Cannot leave yet. Not strong enough... foolish."

Dan stared at him disbelievingly. "Heard you singing earlier…not a bad voice…why so happy?" Rorschach asked curiously, his quirky inquisitive nature returning. Dan turned away briefly, considering the question, but the answer was already with him, unearthed painfully in the moments before. He turned back to his masked friend and replied simply.

"I was happy because… for once my days were only going to be as lonely as my nights."

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Author's note: The next chapter is leaning towards more light slash. I hope this does not loose me readers, but its important to the story I'm attempting to formulate here. Please give me your input! I could use some reviews to see how I want to steer this. Thanks!

--Jackie


	4. Chapter 4

Sleep did not come easily for Daniel in the wake of his confrontation with Rorschach. He had considered donning his costume and going out on his usual rounds to quiet his restless mind, but he was nervous leaving Rorschach alone. Oddly, despite the tense moment only hours earlier, his partner seemed quite relaxed now, requesting more cereal and then nodding off to sleep as if nothing had happened. Things felt different to Dan however, he was suddenly aware of the similarities between him and his partner and it frightened him. He had for a long rime felt pity for Rorschach, sensing he was a man entirely alone in the world, only now did he realized that he himself was only slightly better off.

Dan was shy, his parents were dead, and he had a chosen occupation that made having normal relationships difficult. _But at least I'm still normal and sane,… not like him.. _Dan told himself. He wondered for a while if he should quit being 'Nite Owl', work on an ordinary life with conventional human relationships. He quickly dismissed the notion on account of the fact that he felt so much more comfortable as Nite Owl then Daniel Drieberg. The sinking realization of his desolation summoned hundreds of inner demons to nag at his brain as he lie in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, wishing so desperately he could just sleep. _How does Rorschach sleep so easily?_ He wondered. It was nearly morning by the time he drifted off.

* * *

Wednesday dawned overcast, the sun from the previous day replaced by ashy clouds. Dan woke feeling revived but not fully refreshed. He had dreamt of Sunday night, the events that led to this strange situation, of blood, and fear, and other hideous images and feelings. He checked on Rorschach first thing, his dreams implanting an irrational fear that he'd find his partner sprawled out on soaked crimson sheets, split open from chest to groin. Dan breathed a sigh of relief when he entered to see Rorschach sitting up and apparently waiting for him. He helped his partner to the restroom and upon returning him to bed took notice of the very prevalent wheezing in his chest.

"You need to breathe deeper, and cough an little. You're going to get sick." Dan muttered as he fluffed a pillow and arranged it so Rorschach was sitting up in bed comfortably. "I know it hurts with your ribs all smashed up…, but you're breathing too shallowly. You're not clearing your lungs out. You'll get pneumonia." Dan said, attempting to stifle a yawn. "I'm going to make breakfast…later today I need to change your bandages and clean those wounds again. You could use a bath, you're kind of starting to stink…, but I'll give it another day or two… you should be able to wash yourself by then." Dan stood up and turned to leave the room, yawning again. He could hear Rorschach's shuddering breathing as he stepped towards the door, followed by a strained painful cough. He smiled slightly, pleased that his usually stubborn friend was at least trying to heed his warning.

Dan made what was for him a fairly elaborate breakfast, consisting of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, sliced oranges, and a large pot of coffee. Rorschach ate modestly, saying it was good but still lacking a big appetite. "I'm going out for a bit, I need to get you some more clothes to wear while you're here, you've been in those pajamas for like three days now. I won't be gone long, Do you want anything in particular? Dan asked, stacking the dirty dishes on a tray to take downstairs.

Rorschach was quiet for a few minutes before looking up at him and replying; "water…soap…want to wash my face while you are gone. Dirty…itchy…" Dan nodded and brought him a large plastic bowl filled with hot water and some detergent. It always gave him the creeps that Rorschach referred to his mask as his 'face'. It was an eerie reminder that there was something very off about his partner. "You can leave it off until is dry, I'll knock before I come in…" Dan said somberly as he turned to go leave.

Knowing that Rorschach would want to be alone until his 'face' was clean and dry, Dan made no effort to return quickly. He wandered the colorless sidewalks of midtown for over an hour before finally stopping into a department store to pick up some fresh clothes for his peculiar friend. He purchased a few plain white tee-shirts, underwear, a black zip-up hooded sweatshirt, a few pairs of pajama pants, and one pair of jeans. He didn't know if Rorschach even wore jeans, but he felt it would be nice to get him something other then pajamas. The cost of the items didn't even cross his mind as he paid, just as the costs of the two custom tailored suits he had ordered to replace the vigilante's uniform didn't cross his mind either. Dan had few concerns when it came to money, and he was certain his partner was all but penniless. One of the many disparaging symptoms of the change in Rorschach over the last year was that he now looted criminals before they left them for the police. Dan noticed this change right away, but said nothing, pretending not to notice. It wasn't the fact he that _was_ looting them that bothered him, is was that he did it now, and never used to.

Walking home slowly form the department store, a man who liked to consider himself a hero stared up at a sky of endless gray hovering over city the color of charcoal and thought to himself; _How can I save this city if I can't save the man at my side… _He turned his eyes from the ash colored sky and gazed ahead.

An attractive couple passed to his left; a pretty young blond girl and a sharply dressed business man who looked almost too old to be with her. They laughed as the passed him, wrapped up in some intimate conversation all their own. Dan shook his head despondently as he turned the corner, he could hardly even imagine another by his side like that. It was difficult for him to picture himself with somebody outside the vigilante business, and there weren't exactly many available within. Aside from a sinking feeling of emotional isolation there was the physical end as well. Dan could hardly remember the last time he'd had sex. _Two years ago perhaps? The girl from the west village… yeah…that was a total one night fetish thing, she even told me not to call her the next day. _He sighed miserably as he approached his townhouse, but as he unlocked the door he felt his spirits raise ever so slightly. _For what its worth, I have some sort of company for the time being. _

Dan was sure to knock before entering the guest room, remembering with some frustration that he could not enter if Rorschach was still unmasked. "You can come in Daniel." The familiar raspy voice answered, just loud enough to hear through the door. Dan smiled and entered, for some reason it felt overwhelmingly good to hear somebody say his name. Rorschach was coughing hoarsely into a Kleenex as Dan entered, and as he looked around he was mildly appalled by the amount of used tissue balls scattered around the bed. "Well,.. Uh… I'm glad to see you listened to me about the coughing thing." Dan said, kicking one of the paper wads aside as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I got you some things. Fresh clothes and stuff. I used the size on the tags of your old suit to go by, so hopefully everything will fit okay." Dan explained as he took the items out of the shopping bag and set them down on the corner or the bed. "You're pretty small. I knew you were smaller then me, but in your costume you look bigger somehow.' Dan chuckled.

"Hurm…" Rorschach grumbled and eyed the stack of clothing curiously, black and white face tilted slightly to the side.

"You can get changed in just a bit…I know you're not going to like this, but I want to change your bandages, and see how things are healing up." said Dan cautiously, waiting nervously for the fierce retort he was sure would follow.

"Can do it myself." Rorschach responded coolly.

"I think I should,…you still can't use your right arm very well, and I don't think you're medical knowledge is as good as mine." Dan replied trying to sound as simple and logical as he could. He knew Rorschach probably could do most of it himself, but he could not stifle the feeling that it was still too early to leave him to his own devices. He wanted to see for himself that nothing was overlooked, and everything was healing as it should. "Its alright, it won't take long." Dan laid a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, feeling the reflexive tightening beneath his palm.

"Fine…but only once…can do it myself after this." Rorschach conceded reluctantly. Dan shifted a few inches closer to the smaller man, pausing for a moment as he took hold of his tee-shirt. He could hear Rorschach's breathing quicken as soon as his hand touched the fabric. "Its okay,…" Dan whispered soothingly, and pulled the shirt over the masked head, being careful not to strain the right shoulder. Rorschach's chest was visibly shuddering with every nervous breath as Dan slipped the shirt off and set it aside. "Its okay…its okay…" Dan repeated, trying to calm the visibly terrified man. "Alright, you can lay down now." He said softly and gently coaxed the shivering body back against the pillows.

Despite being well aware of his partner's nervousness when it came to human contact, Dan still could not help but be shocked by how every muscle twitched, how he quivered at simplest touch. Dan let out a low whistle at the sight of Rorschach's naked torso, the bruising was still horrifically apparent in an array of blue, purple, red and greenish splotches over the tight pale skin. He removed the old bandages to reveal the gunshot wound in the right shoulder and the long gash down the middle. The wounds looked remarkably good, perfectly sealed scabs, dark and apparently cauterized. Dr. Manhattan's work was flawless.

Dan poured some hydrogen peroxide onto a wad of cotton and slowly began to clean the wounds, being careful not to apply too much pressure. He felt Rorschach wince as he passed over his ribs on the left side. "You're being really cooperative here…It'll be over soon, just need to check the gunshot wound on you leg after this, and we'll be done." Dan said calmly as he rubbed the cotton down the long slash on Rorschach's pale shivering torso. "You really don't like be touched do you?" Dan asked glancing up at the masked face. There was no responses save loud irregular breathing. Dan chuckled. "You're ticklish." He noticed how Rorschach's stomach twitched, and felt him squirm slightly under his touch. "Hang in there…"

Dan followed the gash down past the masked man's navel, and lifted the waistband of his pajamas to remove the last of the bandages and disinfect the final portion of the terrible injury. As he touched the trembling skin he glanced up to see Rorschach's fists clenched, his chest heaving, his entire body shaking. He finished as quickly as he could, the terror exhibited by his partner almost unbearable.

"I'm done, it's okay…calm down…" Dan leaned over and gently rubbed Rorschach's shoulder, feeling the shaking very slowly subsiding. "I wasn't going to do anything to you,…I would never take advantage of somebody like that…Well err...If that's what you were afraid of…that is.." Dan apologized, his neck growing hot. _Why the Hell did I even suggest that was what he was afraid of? _He thought to himself_,_ feeling a rising insecurity_. _"Are you alright?" Dan whispered finally, his hand still on Rorschach's shoulder. The masked vigilante nodded stiffly and Dan breathed a slow sigh of relief. After a brief pause he glanced at the pale, bruised body on the bed before him. "You know…You have a lot of freckles... I'd never have guessed."

"Something wrong with freckles?…lots of people have freckles…" Rorschach replied quietly.

Dan laughed and smiled warmly, "Nothing's wrong with them. Nothing at all, its just very human…"

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Author's Notes: *Whew* These chapters keep getting longer. I absolutely love that Rorschach has freckles. Such a cute feature on the 'terror of the underworld'. Anyhow, I hope everyone liked this one. Thank you so much for the reviews, your opinions are very much appreciated!

_-- Jackie_


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh c'mon man…its been like ten minutes… you've got to have something. This is ridiculous."

"Hurm…another second…"

"You know you can trade in right?"

"Yes… not very smart…won't get points that way…"

"ugg….I'm gonna go get a drink, this is taking forever. Do you want something?"

"A coke…and one of Miss Juspeczyk's cookies."

"I'll get you the soda, but enough with the cookies, I'm making dinner after this game"

"Fine."

Dan stood up from where he was seated on the floor beside the living room coffee table. Rorschach was across the table from him on the couch, fluid black and white face fixed intensely on a row of seven tiny wooden tiles. As Dan turned to walk into the kitchen he spun around and pointed at his partner stringently;

"And don't you dare cheat while I'm away!"

"won't cheat…don't need to cheat…" Rorschach muttered in a barely audible voice and began to set his tiles on the game board in front of him.

It was Friday afternoon, five days into what Dan liked to think of as his 'roommate experiment' . Rorschach had noticeably improved over the last day and Dan had decided it would be good for him to get out of bed, at least for a few hours. He remained incredibly weak, the blood loss had taken a heavy toll on him, and Dan could tell that he was still in a great deal of pain, but he was able to sit up and even limp about a little on his own now.

Earlier that day Dan had suggested he wash up a bit and offered to give him a shave which he declined, saying he'd do it himself. It had been a bizarre morning for Dan, sitting nervously in his bedroom down the hall from the bathroom, waiting for Rorschach to come out; terrified he would faint and drown in the bathtub, or slit his own throat shaving. He found it perplexing how worried he was about his crime-fighting partner, Rorschach was an adult after all, and a fiercely independent one at that, but Dan still felt the need to watch over him attentively. He wondered if it was the painful memories from Sunday night that brought about this slightly obsessive concern, as if by bringing Rorschach back to perfect health he could somehow banish the haunting images. Or perhaps it was something about Rorschach himself that made him so vigilant, the notion that maybe this was his one chance to rescue his partner from something deeper then his injuries.

Dan returned to the living room with two icy glasses of coca-cola and half a cookie. "Here, but you better eat dinner. You need something healthy." He said, handing Rorschach his snack before turning his gaze to the game board. In the left corner was the word 'QUESTION'.

"Shit…" Dan's jaw dropped.

"Get extra points for using all seven tiles?"

"yeah…fifty…and that's a 'Q'…and you hit a triple word score…Damn." Dan gaped incredulously.

"Your turn."

"Heh heh,.. Nah, you got me man, There's no way I can beat you now. Besides, I'm hungry. I'm going to get dinner started. Good game."

Dan held out his had across the coffee table. Rorschach took it and shook, cocking his head to the side and saying with a slight hint of arrogance; "Quitter." Dan laughed. "Yeah, yeah. I'll get you next time." He stood and up and stretched before walking over to the front door and stepping outside.

The weather was warm and pleasant, as it had been earlier in the week. A lot of people were out and about in the city, taking in what was sure to be one of the final warm days of the year. Dan turned and walked back into the house. "Hey Rorschach, I have an idea." He said cheerfully. "I'm going to make dinner out on the grill today. Its on the roof top. I've got a nice set up out there, a table, some lawn chairs. You should come outside. Its really nice." Rorschach lifted his mask and took a sip of his drink, then paused for a few moments before looking up at Dan.

"Might been seen out there."

"I don't think so, just wear that jacket I got you, you can put the hood up. I think you need the fresh air. You've been cooped up in here all week." Dan persisted.

Rorschach was quiet a long while before replying with a tangible hit of reluctance; "fine…"

Dan grinned brightly and went to fetch the black hooded sweatshirt he had recently purchased for his friend. He returned with the jacket and tossed it to Rorschach who sat quietly on the couch. He slipped it on slowly, taking extra care when pulling it over his injured right shoulder. Dan helped him to his feet, feeling him waver slightly as he stood. He looked almost comically normal, dressed in gray cotton pajama pants, a white tee-shirt, hooded jacket, and of course the usual mask. Dan decided that he needed to snap photo of him like this at some point.

Getting Rorschach up the three flights of stairs to the rooftop proved more difficult then Dan had anticipated. Half way up the second flight, even with Dan supporting most of his weight, Rorschach was clearly in pain and exhausted. "This is pathetic…" the masked vigilante coughed, slumping against his partner, wheezing heavily and wincing with every inhalation. Dan shook his head; "This probably wasn't a good idea, you seemed to be perking up today but I think I jumped the gun a bit thinking you could get up to the roof." He glanced at the stairs. "Still though, you need some fresh air…" Boldly, without asking, Dan scooped the smaller man into his arms and carried him up the remaining flights of stairs. Other then the usual stiffening Rorschach exhibited when touched, Dan was surprised at the lack of protest.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs Dan set Rorschach on his feet and opened the door to the rooftop. The sun was warm, and the late afternoon breeze felt soft and velvety as Dan led his friend to a reclining lawn chair beside a potted Japanese maple. Rorschach collapsed onto the chair, clearly spent.

"Been up here few times…never noticed trees or chairs before...was dark then." Rorschach mumbled, curiously scanning the patio furniture. "Yeah, I think I thought I'd have friends over for parties or something." Dan replied, turning on the gas grill. "Unfortunately, I don't have very many friends." He laughed, trying to pretend he found the fact amusing, before heading back downstairs to retrieve the food.

Dan brought up a battery powered radio and set it on the patio table, tuning it to a local rock station. He sang along to Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, and The Who as he chopped and skewered peppers, onions, and steak for kabobs. Rorschach said nothing but watched inquisitively from his spot on the lawn chair.

"You're pretty quiet. Tired?" Dan asked, blinking rapidly and turning his face away from the onion he was slicing.

"Yeah...Nice outside though. "

"I knew it would be good for you to get outside a bit. You just rest. How do you like your steak?" Dan asked, setting the kabobs on the grill.

"Not sure.., Don't have it often. However you think is best." Rorschach replied in a raspy whisper.

When the food was ready Dan helped his partner limp over to the patio table and the two men sat across from each other under the fading October sun. Dan poured himself a large glass of red wine, then pulled a second bottle out from a cooler of ice he had set beside the table." I know you don't drink, but I have something I think you'll like. It's a white wine, California Moscato, I tried it last night, but its way too sweet for me." Rorschach examined the bottle for a few second before shaking his head. "Don't like alcohol…Impairs judgment. Makes you slow. Tastes bad." Dan laughed softy and began pouring a small glass of the pale yellow wine. "I knew you'd say that, you're always so tense. Just try it. You can relax for now, we'll be back out on the streets before you know it." He extended the glass with a sincere smile, gazing straight ahead, knowing that he was looking his partner in the eyes, even if he could not see them.

Rorschach took the wine, and Dan noticed how shaky his hand was, a symptom of anemia. He lifted the glass to his pallid, slightly chapped lips, took a very small sip, and then a larger one. Dan smiled broadly sensing a victory.

"This is good…" The half-masked man replied slowly.

"Told ya so, I knew a sugar junkie like you would like that wine."

"Everything is good…Very good…Don't ever eat like this…Thank you Daniel."

_Thank you Daniel. _The simple words echoed in Dan's mind as he finished his meal, coupled with a deep feeling of affection for the small, socially awkward man before him. Rorschach was a lot of things, many negative, but dishonest was not one of them. His appreciation was undoubtedly genuine. As the sun dipped below the soaring skyscrapers Dan returned Rorschach to his lawn chair. He then refilled both of their wine glasses and laid down on a chair beside his partner. He was quite for a long while, watching as the sinking sun set the sky ablaze.

"It was the case with the little girl wasn't it?… The one you went on alone…That's why you're different now." Dan said finally without turning his eyes from the city.

"Different? Yes, suppose so. Seen the truth…part of me did not survive the impact." Rorschach replied in a low voice that trailed off into a scarcely audible whisper.

Dan turned to face Rorschach who was taking a long slow drink of the sugar-sweet wine. He stared at the masked man, his heart breaking under the weight of his words; _part of me did not survive the impact… _

"Why do you do it Rorschach? Why do you put your soul through this? I've been asking myself that all week. Ever since Sunday, ever since seeing you cut open and gunned down like that, I've been asking myself…_why?_"

"Evil cannot be allowed to go unpunished…There is no final judgment…There is no Hell save the one we live in now…Must become that judgment…must make the scum pay for their crimes." Rorschach replied in an eerie monotone. Dan shivered.

"What about to save people in need? What about…" Dan paused before continuing nervously ; "What about love…I mean…not necessarily romantic love…but friendship, or love for humanity"

"Is that your reason?"

"I-…I like to think it is." Dan faltered.

"Good reason. You are a good person Daniel…You know those things…Not like me." Rorschach mumbled before draining the glass of wine. He lifted it in Dan's direction, indicating his desire for a refill. Dan sat up and took the glass from him, setting it on the ground before taking the cold hand firmly in his own.

"I know you will think I'm weak for saying this…but for what its worth Rorschach…you're my friend…I care about you." Dan could tell this voice was wavering, and he could not find the courage to use the word he wanted to, but he said what he could, hoping that in some way he could convey the notion love to a man who scarcely knew the meaning of the word.

Rorschach was silent, and although he reflexively tensed on contact he did not pull away. Dan swallowed hard and looked down at his hand holding his friend's. He ran his thumb over the pale knuckles, eyes tracing the few stray freckles on the top of Rorschach's hand. _He could've died so easily on Sunday…died never knowing love of any kind…_ Dan felt as though his heart could shatter at any moment. Here was a man, arguably his best friend, who's fragile mind teetered on the edge of total insanity, and he wanted nothing more then to gather him up in his arms at that moment, hold him, and tell him; _You're not alone. _

He slowly released his partner's thin cold hand and filled his wine glass, handing it back to him before filling his own. "Here's to…Us…its been 10 years we've been working together." Dan said trying to smile brightly. Rorschach nodded and raised his glass. "Cheers." He replied in his gravely voice. The two vigilantes stayed out until the sky grew dark and a few very faint stars appeared in the misty Manhattan night sky. They finished the wine and sat quietly watching ashy wisps of clouds pass slowly over the yellow October moon.

Dan felt a shiver run through him and he turned to Rorschach. "We better go inside. Its getting cold out here, don't want you to get sick." There was no response from the masked man. Dan got to his feet and leaned over his partner. He was completely still, the hooded jacket pulled tightly around him, but Dan could hear his breathing; slow and even save a slight raspy wheezing. Dan smiled; "Aright sleepy head…" He whispered, slipping his hands underneath the smaller man and lifting him gently up into his arms. He felt very cold and Dan held him close as he carefully carried him down the stairs to the spare bedroom. He entered the room and proceeded to the bed, trying to step lightly as not to wake his sleeping partner. He paused for a moment in front of the bed.

"You're not alone." He whispered sadly, squeezing him gently before laying him down and covering him securely. He then turned to leave, shutting off the light as he left the room.

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Author's Notes: Hope you liked latest installment. Thank you so much much for your reviews, they make me write faster! Extra thanks to Raven Aorla for catching my typos! Very much appreciated. :) More to come soon, Rorschach is going to be up and about more in the chapters to come, so look out Dan... your home is in danger.

--Jackie


	6. Chapter 6

His hands pulled open the soaked shirt, the skin was wet and sticky, the blood black like oil in the dim interior of the hover craft. The body beneath him was writhing in pain, ripped open, gunned down. The dying man was spouting nonsense, mumbling incoherently. His life was visibly pouring out all around him. So hopeless, it was surely over. He wrapped the hemorrhaging body anyway, the gauze was instantly saturated. The bleeding man's voice grew fainter and fainter. "Daniel…can't see…Daniel where are we… Where are we…?"

Dan's eyes flicked open, he was in his bed, wrapped tightly in the sheets. A damp chill breeze was gusting through the open window. It was still dark. "Another nightmare...just a nightmare…he's alright now" Dan muttered to himself. He glanced at the clock radio beside his bed. It read 4:12 am. He sat up and shivered, it had been warm when he had gone to bed, wearing nothing but his underwear. He looked around, feeling nervous, violated by his own sleep, the last fading images of the nightmare still lingering. _Daniel…can't see…Daniel where are we…_ The fading voice in Dan's head echoed hauntingly in the silent room. He wondered for a moment how he had answered that pleading whisper. Had he said anything at all? He couldn't remember. "Rorschach…" Dan muttered, and stood up reaching for his red terrycloth bathrobe.

_Damn it…This is stupid, he's fine. I was with him just hours ago… We had a drink together…he's sleeping in there. He's fine… _Dan cursed to himself as he walked the distance across the hall to the guestroom. It didn't matter if logically he knew Rorschach was not bleeding to death, like a child needing to check for monsters in the closet Dan proceeded to the spare bed room, all the way begrudging his childish paranoia.

He turned the knob slowly, trying to suppress even the softest squeak. He quietly stepped into the room, noticing instantly that it felt cold in there as well. _Shit…better close that window… Forgot it was open. He's going to get sick. _Dan carefully approached the open window and reached up to close it. The scraping sound it made as he pulled down was deafening in the silent room. Dan heard a quick rustle of fabric and spun around to see Rorschach sitting up partially, leaning on his left elbow, the ghostly black and white face staring directly at him.

"Daniel…" The name came out in a disturbing hiss.

"I just came in to err…close the window." Dan stammered.

"Don't think so…can tell when you lie…" Rorschach replied, his voice sounding reassuringly less venomous.

"I uh…" Dan sighed miserably and sat down on the corner of the bed. "I had another nightmare, I've been having them almost every night this week."

"and you came in here?" the masked man inquired, resting back against the pillows , nearly disappearing into the shadows of the dark room.

"Well,…the nightmares are about you…I keep reliving last Sunday. Every night I see you…bleeding out everywhere…dying." Dan said softly, looking absently towards the window.

"Hurm…" Rorschach paused briefly and then continued; "Wounds are sealed Daniel,…everything inside where it should be. Still very weak, still in pain, but getting better, not dying."

Dan nodded and then felt something nudging at his thigh under from under the blankets. Rorschach was poking him with his left foot. "Go back to bed…still dark…want to sleep more.." Dan flopped down on his back sideways across the bottom of the bed.

"You're right." He yawned.

"Not here!" Rorschach spat.

"Too tired…don't wanna get up." Dan protested teasingly. Testing Rorschach's patience would normally be asking for a nasty bruise, or worse, but given the circumstances Dan found it to be an amusing past time. At the least it helped chase away the last fleeting resonance of the nightmare. He felt a swift kick in the back.

"Oww! Hey now, don't be mean." Dan sat up, laughing at Rorschach's escalating anger. "I'm just messing with you."

"Sorry…" Rorschach replied, his voice sounding oddly sincere given that Dan was purposely trying to annoy him.

Dan yawned loudly and got to his feet. "Alright man, I'll see you in the morning. French toast for breakfast sound good to you?"

"Yeah…Very good." answered the masked man as he stiffly rolled over and curled up beneath the sheets.

***

There were few things in the world that brought any apparent joy to Dan's ever gloomy crime-fighting partner, and sugar was one of those things. Dan often wondered how he still had any half way decent teeth left. He watched in amusement as Rorschach dropped four sugar cubes into a small mug of coffee, stirring thoroughly before taking a tentative sip, as if it could possibly not be sweet enough. The two were eating breakfast in the living room on the coffee table, Rorschach half laying down on the couch, and Dan sitting on the chair to his right.

"When will you return to work?" Rorschach asked, sucking on an orange slice.

"Return to work? Oh! Yeah….umm… hmm I don't know…soon I guess." Dan stammered, having not given the topic a lot of thought.

"You're not injured."

"Well no… I guess not." Dan scratched at his neck nervously. "I dunno, I feel weird leaving you here all by yourself for hours.

"Fine for a while, will sleep most of it. City needs you Daniel, cannot laze around here forever."

"Not forever,…but at least until I don't think you'll need me while I'm gone. I mean come on man, you can't even get up or down the stairs without me." Dan persisted.

"Hurm….maybe not…but don't need too, will sleep while you are away, can get across the hall to restroom and back…will be fine." Rorschach mumbled, taking another sip of what had to be disgustingly sweet coffee. "You worry too much Daniel."

Dan felt himself blush. He knew it was true, but regardless it was embarrassing to have his partner bring it up. "Guess I'll go out tonight. Maybe not the whole night, but for a few hours." He muttered, watching Rorschach over the rim of his coffee mug. He still looked so oddly small and frail, a sickly shadow of what he once was; wrapped in a quilt, holding the coffee mug with a visibly shaking hand. _Daniel…can't see…Daniel…where are we… _Dan heard the fading whisper resurface from the corners of his subconscious as he gazed at his partner.

***

Nite Owl descended like a sweeping shadow from three stories up, his glider cape unfurled, catching the chilly autumn breeze. He hit the pavement and lunged forward, pinning his victim as a cat would a mouse.

He roughly pressed his prey against the cold damp concrete, holding the struggling body down with his knee as he bound the criminal's wrists behind his back. He was local gang thug, only out of prison a mere six weeks and already he was wanted for a robbery. Dan knew his patterns, he had brought him in before. He was an easy take down.

"Heh heh heh.. So you're back Nite Hawk,… or whatever the hell you name is…" The man laughed sardonically, lifting his head off the asphalt and spitting out a wad of bloody snot.

"Nite Owl…" Dan replied flatly.

"Ya know this ain't no big deal to me, you throw me to the cops, They'll put me in jail, but don't fuck'n matter, I be out in a few months. I'm in and outta there so much it don't phase me." The criminal said mockingly as Nite Owl lifted him roughly to his feet.

"You're a big push over, ya know that? Now that freak show sidekick of yours…, That little prick's a killer. Where is he tonight? Where's your little bitch Nite Bird?"

"He's not here tonight."

"HA! Bet I know why, heard he's dead. My 'ol buddy Ricky said he cut him like a fish, and I heard Marcus gunned him down too." The thug laughed coldly as Nite Owl forced him down the ally towards the main drag where he was sure he could find an officer.

"You'll be disappointed then…" Nite owl growled, growing progressively more annoyed with his captive.

"Heh heh, you got him at home then you fuck'n fag? I'd be worried if I were you, someone just might show up to finish the job."

Dan knew the thug was bluffing. He was sure his residence and identity were secure, he had always been careful, but he still felt the urge to drop the criminal off as fast as he could and return to check on his partner.

"You're not too bright Nite Bird…Keeping up company with a whack-job like that. He's crazier then half the fuckers _I _know. That nutty son of a bitch is gonna snap on you one day Nite Bird, Heh heh heh, We're all wait'n for it ya know that? Gonna be a fuck'n beautiful day when that little bitch of yours slices open your throat."

"That's enough." Dan snarled. He lifted his head and saw a police car down at the corner. _Thank God. _He thought to himself, roughly forcing the man forward. He left the criminal with the two officers, who had been enjoying their coffee, and seemed irritated with their new charge.

Dan turned the corner and disappeared into the blackness of the city, heading for the Owlship. The ranting of a convicted felon rarely phased Dan at all, but this one's words had succeeded in opening up an old wound which he had been successfully ignoring. A conversation he had a few weeks prior with his well loved and respected mentor, Hollis Mason, came painfully creeping back to the forefront of his consciousness.

"_I don't know what's happened to him Hollis, he's acting all strange now…well strange-er. He talks weird, in these short disjointed sentences…and he's not taking care of himself anymore, he shows up as filthy as he was the night before, and he's brutal as all Hell on the criminals now…. I'm really worried about him."_

"_I'm worried about YOU, Danny."_

"_Me? What are talking about?"_

"_I never liked that partner of yours Danny, I always thought there was something not right about him. Now you tell me this? Danny, I think he belongs in an institution, not armed and on the streets."_

"_Hollis-"_

"_No! Now you listen to me Danny. In my time I've seen how some people who wear masks are bad as the people they bring in. That Rorschach is a loaded gun…a loaded gun with all the screws loose. One of these days he's going to loose it and you're going pay for trusting---"_

"_Enough, This conversation is over."_

The memories were still raw as he headed towards the place where he had left Archie, his affectionately named hovercraft. It was the only time Dan had ever snapped at Hollis. He'd spoken to him many times since but avoided the topic of Rorschach. He did not intend on making it known to his mentor that he was currently caring for his partner either. It was a soar spot that he did not want to aggravate again. Dan found that the Owlship was safe where he'd left it, and as he took it back to his home base, he found himself going over the last week, sifting through the days, contemplating his partner's flawed mental state.

_Different? Yes, suppose so. Seen the truth…part of me did not survive the impact_. Rorschach's haunting words from the previous evening echoed in Dan's head as he shut down the ship for the night. It was only 3:00am, but Dan felt more then ready to call it a night as he peeled off his crime fighter suit and threw on a robe before heading upstairs. _I know he's sick… I know he has real problems, but he's still a person, and he's suffering…_ Dan thought to himself as he ascended the stairs out of the basement.

He paused in he kitchen to get himself a glass of water before heading up the second flight of stairs towards his bedroom. _I know he's terrifying on the streets…but never…he'd never turn on me… He trusts me, I'm sure of it. I'm the only one he has… _He turned the corner into the hallway when he reached the second floor, and to his horror saw the body of a smaller man crumpled against the wall about twelve feet in front of him.

_No… _Dan felt as though his heart stopped cold as his eyes took in the motionless silhouette ahead of him. _They couldn't have found him…nobody knows… _Dan rushed forward, collapsing to his knees beside Rorschach's limp body. "Rorschach!" He gasped, pulling him away from wall, allowing the smaller man to slump lifelessly into his arms. "Rorschach!" he shook him lightly, feeling an immediate surge of relief as he felt the body come to life, the masked head tilting up to look at him.

"Daniel…where are we?" Rorschach breathed, his raspy voice faint and scarcely perceptible.

"We're…we're in my hallway, on the floor. Rorschach…" Dan looked around the area, noticing nothing out of the ordinary other then a paperback copy of "Catcher in the Rye" on the floor a few feet away. "What happened to you?"

Rorschach's body stiffened and he winced as he tried to straighten himself into a sitting position. "Remember now… Stupid idea… Was bored, couldn't sleep. Went downstairs to find something to read. Managed to get back up , felt very bad at the top of the stairs…tried to get back to bedroom, felt dizzy…don't remember anything else."

"Damn it.." Dan swore under his breath. "I knew this was a bad idea, I shouldn't have left you alone here. You're still in bad shape."

Rorschach shook his head. "No, my fault. Said I'd stay up here…"

Dan sighed. He slipped his hand up under Rorschach's tee-shirt and gently felt along his partner's side. Rorschach tightened and Dan heard him hiss as his hand passed over one of his ribs on the right side.

"These have a long way to go…and I think you might have popped that one again." Dan said sadly, feeling like he had somehow failed by allowing his friend to hurt himself. Rorschach nodded slowly. To Dan's bewilderment, something in the masked man's stiff demeanor seemed to crack and his muscles relaxed as he allowed himself to rest against Dan's chest.

"Been thinking Daniel,…" The small vigilante said quietly, His raspy voice sounding somehow defeated. "Been thinking that you are too good a friend for me…Been thinking that I was supposed to die six days ago...only alive because of you. Don't know how to be thankful to you…don't know if I am…but feel I should be."

Dan smiled sadly and gave Rorschach's shoulder a light squeeze. His partner's fragile mind was so evident in his faltering words. He leaned forward, lifted him up off the floor, and took him back to his room. It felt almost common now, carrying around the world's most feared vigilante. Rorschach did not even fight him, seeming shamefully resigned to his plight. Dan brought him water, painkillers, and the book he had dropped before heading off to bed himself, all the way thinking; _Yes, he is sick, crazy, deranged…whatever people want to think of him…but right now he is my brother… and I am my brother's keeper. _

***

"_Daniel…can't see…Daniel where are we… Where are we…?" _

"It doesn't matter where we are, just hang on…I'm here with you."

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Author's Notes: Hello readers! Little note here that I wanted to make apparent, my Watchmen world looks first to the graphic novel, and second to the movie. Especially in regard to time inconsistancies, Rorschach was born in 1940 so he is 35 in 1975 at the time of this fic, not in 1985 like in the movie. Also the Blaire Roche incident occured in this fic as it did in the book, with Ror burning the guy alive instead of chopping him up. I liked the movie a lot, but the GN is the basis. However! I thought the movie was wonderfully cast, so feel free to imagine the actors. lol (I love you JEH) Also I did give a little nod to the movie in regard to Dan's costume, yay for glider capes! Anyhow, that said, much thanks for the reviews! I might be a little late on my next update, I have a busy week ahead, but do not fear, it is coming!

--Jackie


	7. Chapter 7

The harsh ringing of Dan's alarm clock cut through a foggy dreamless sleep. He reached up to smack it, clumsily knocking it off the nightstand in the process. He had been enjoying the peace of a night that was for the first time all week, generally free of horrid nightmares. It was a chilly Sunday, and outside he could hear the sound of church bells and autumn rain.

He stood up and stretched before leaning over to pick up the alarm clock, the time read 11:00. Normally, since he had patrolled the night before, he'd sleep past noon, but he had set his clock early, feeling he should get up to make sure Rorschach was alright. The thought of his partner summoned up a wave of sadness. He recalled the previous night, Rorschach appearing so defeated as leaned against his chest, and whispered of his desire to be dead. Dan knew that this current state of helplessness had stripped his friend of all his pride, and it was without a doubt a living hell for him. If ever Rorschach would snap, this could be the time.

Dan walked down the hallway towards the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, the hardwood floor icy cold under his bare feet. Perhaps out of habit, perhaps from sheer drowsiness, or maybe just a momentary lapse of thought, Dan turned the knob to the bathroom door and entered without so much as a knock to see if it were occupied.

"SHIT!" Dan stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet, trying to slam the door before he lost his balance and landed hard on his behind. Rorschach stood frozen for a split second like an animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. He was naked, apparently just having got out of the shower, bent over drying off his hair. Instantly and reflexively he covered his head with the towel, instinctively shielding his identify before worrying about the rest of him. The quick reaction caused him to loose his footing and he slipped backwards, tripping over the edge of the bathtub.

Dan lunged forward, catching the small damp man in his arms before he hit the tile. He was somewhat amazed by his own hair trigger reaction time, apparently being a crime fighter had paid off. Rorschach was shaking uncontrollably in his arms, cold and terrified. For a moment Dan paused to consider what a sight this must be, him in nothing but his underwear, holding Rorschach who was naked save a towel over his head. It would have been hysterical if not for the fact his partner was almost certainly livid. Dan reached for another towel, still clutching Rorschach's shivering body against him with one arm, all the while thinking; _Hell,…If he doesn't kill me for this then I'm damn certain he never will. _He threw a towel around the shuddering freckled shoulders, reassuringly covering him before he sat him carefully down on the edge of the bathtub, and proceeded to search around for his mask and fresh clothes.

"D-Daniel…very rude…very bad…" Rorschach sputtered from beneath the towel draped over his head.

"I know…I'm really sorry. I mean it. I'm still just not used to there being another person here. I was sleepy, wasn't thinking right." Dan found the black and white face neatly hanging over one of the towel racks.

"Did you…did you see my--"

"Umm…all of you but your face?" Dan laughed handing him the mask. "Yeah, but it happened real fast. I don't remember much."

"You…you didn't see--"

"No." Dan said firmly, his voice ever so slightly touched with annoyance, his back to Rorschach. "No…I didn't see your face. You were drying your hair, and then you threw that towel over your head, I think I might have caught a quick glimpse, but that's it, and I can't really recall anything specific." Dan sighed, it was no use expressing his frustration with Rorschach's secrecy, so he shrugged it off and added teasingly; "No man, you did a fine job of hiding your face, now as for your--"

"I get it…" Rorschach growled.

***

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, Rorschach was extra withdrawn, apparently damaged by the morning's traumatic events. He sat silently curled up on the couch, heavily doped on painkillers which he had demanded with breakfast, watching TV or writing in a small yellow notepad. At first Dan thought that he should feel sorry for him, but the emotion simply wouldn't come. The whole thing just seemed hilarious to him. If Rorschach had injured himself more there would be room for pity, but he was no worse off physically then he had been the night before. His insistence on hiding his identity was obsessive to say the least, and Dan could not help but bitterly wish he had not succeeding in getting that towel over his head so fast.

_Why is he so hell bent on not letting me see his face? Who is he? Do I know him? _Dan wondered as he put away the dishes from dinner. _Is there a reason for all this? Is it bad? _Dan could not pretend the suspicion had never come up before, the fear that perhaps Rorschach was in fact one of the criminals they were hunting. The concern that the reason for his secrecy was rooted in something unforgivable had nagged Dan in the past. _No, he's just weird… he's too singularly set on destroying crime to be part of it himself. _Dan turned and walked into the living room, his eyes falling on the injured vigilante, who had drifted off to sleep on the couch. He looked so harmless. Despite the tight muscular body, he was such a small man, especially out of costume. _But he's a killer, and you know it. He's taken human life… purposely… not just accidentally out of necessity. He's killed criminals because he wanted to. He has that capacity. _Dan shook his head, The more he thought about it the more it bothered him.

He spent the rest of the evening in his workshop, replacing some worn out parts on the Owlship, and tinkering with a few new gadgets. He had no desire to go out on his rounds. It was Sunday night, one week to the day from that nightmarish mission. _Rorschach…when he was dying, he spoke my name…That means something. I must stop doubting him. He's my partner. _Dan opened up a box he had stashed under his work bench. In it were Rorschach's things; the bloody remains of his uniform and his grappling hook gun. He set the gun on the table and examined its parts, tightening screws, making sure that it was in perfect working order. Rorschach had seemed so confused when Dan had given it to him. It was years ago now, but he remembered the moment clearly. The shy, sincere way Rorschach thanked him, taking his hand willingly for the first time. It was as if it were the first gift he ever received. At the time Dan thought that was impossible, but now he wondered if it were true.

As he cleaned the grappling hook gun, carefully oiling its moving parts, he tried to think of people around the city that would fit what he knew of his partner's appearance. He was not a tall man, but not so short that it was abnormal. He was pale, freckled, and from what he had seen as far as body hair went, probably light brown haired, perhaps reddish colored. He found it remarkable how he could have seen every part of him except the upper portion of his head, and he still could not figure out who he was. _New York is a massive city. He could be anyone. _He finished up with the gun and set it back in the box when he heard a voice coming from the top of the stairs.

"Daniel?…are you still here?"

Dan quickly cleaned up his work space, shouting over is shoulder; "Yeah, I'm not going out tonight. I'll be right up!"

Rorschach was sitting at the kitchen table when he got to the top of the stairs. He was slightly hunched over, shoulders pitched forward, hooded sweatshirt zipped all the way up, his hands in the front pockets, and his thin bony toes curled around the bottom rung of the chair he was perched on. He looked terribly cold.

"You should put some socks on." Dan suggested as he filled the tea kettle.

"Socks are upstairs." Rorschach responded quietly.

"No worries, I'll get them for you." Dan replied, turning on the gas. 'Be back in a flash, keep an eye on the kettle for me."

Dan returned in less then two minutes, the kettle was barely beginning to steam. He handed the socks to his partner before proceeding to the cabinet to retrieve two mugs. Setting the mugs on the counter, he paused and turned back to Rorschach hearing him emit a strained hiss. He was trying to pull his leg up to his chest to put the socks on, wincing as he curled forward, the pressure on his chest hurting him.

"Here…let me get that." Dan knelt down and slipped the socks over the chill feet. "Damn, you're freezing."

Rorschach said nothing, but pulled the jacket tighter around himself. Possibly the worst consequence of his injuries was the blood loss. He became cold very easily and had little energy. Dan knew above all the other injuries this would take the longest to overcome, even when his ribs were mended and the tissue damage healed, he would still be weak. It would likely be months before he was completely normal.

"Here, this will warm you up a bit." Dan filled a mug with steaming water and reached for his boxes of tea bags. "I have plain black tea, green tea, and a blackberry, well that's a black tea too…just with berries in it. What would you like?"

"Hurm…Blackberry sounds good…" Rorschach replied softly, rolling his mask up to his nose, revealing dry, bluish lips.

Dan prepared the tea and slid the mug over to him along with a small ceramic bowl of sugar cubes and a spoon. "Your lips are blue. That's not good…" Dan sighed, taking a seat beside him at the table. Rorschach cringed away from him slightly and began dumping one small white cube after another into the steaming mug. "Hey,… enough of that…Look I'm sorry about this morning. That was rude of me, But honestly, we're friends right? It shouldn't be that big of a deal…"

Rorschach said nothing, only stirred his tea and slipped an extra sugar cube into his mouth, crunching on it loudly as he waited for his beverage to cool.

Dan shook his head and stared at his reflection in his black tea. "I thought things were getting better...You seemed like you were opening up a little…but now, I guess I messed that up huh?" There was a long quite, cut only by the whispering rain against the kitchen window.

Rorschach finally let out a slow sigh. "No Daniel, was an accident. Not your fault…you..." he finally turned to face Dan, but looked down for a moment, biting on his lower lip before lifting his head. "You are…doing your best for me…I know that…Just confused."

"Confused?" Dan replied, taken aback by Rorschach's admission.

Rorschach shook his head and took a timid sip of the blackberry tea, testing to see if it had cooled enough to drink. He swallowed slowly, a bit of color returning to his purplish lips. "Don't like being vulnerable…Don't like feeling weak…but I…I trust you." He paused for a moment, both hands wrapped around the mug, using it to warm his icy fingers. "Not good to trust people…but…" His raspy voice trailed off and he seemed to whither a bit, his small shoulders hunched forward.

Dan reached out and rubbed his back, feeling the spine tense beneath his palm. "Its alright, you don't have to say anymore. Just drink your tea, your freezing." He felt Rorschach relax slightly and continued; "There's just one thing…one thing I want to know."

Rorschach's shoulders instantly tightened and he turned slowly to face his partner. "Cannot promise you an answer."

Dan nodded, he had expected as much. "Can you just tell me _why _you hide your eyes form me?" Dan said looking straight at his partner, his words measured and sincere.

Rorschach was silent for a long time before whispering;

"Told you before Daniel…There is nothing… Nothing worth seeing under there."

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Hello readers! thanks again to everyone who comments and follows this fic. I've had some readers mention music that reminded them of this fic, and I thought I'd share a few things that have inspired the story up to this point. :)

Bruce Springteen; _Streets of Philadelphia_ - I listen to this song a lot when brainstorming for this story, if you swapped philly for NY it could almost be its theme song.

Death Cab for Cutie; _Brothers on a Hotel Bed_ - Actually fits my other watchmen fic; The Price of Guilt a lot better but I still listen to it when working on this one.

Elliot Smith; _Between the Bars_ - big influence for chapter 5, yeah I know... really gay lol

--Jackie


	8. Chapter 8

"Ozymandias… Or Adrian Veidt, I guess his real name is, I was shocked when it came out back in the spring that he was retiring…but this just seems _cheap _somehow… and so soon after quitting." Dan muttered, his voice tinged with disgust as he poured over the Monday Gazette. Rorschach grunted in reply, refilling his glass with orange juice before helping himself to a pancake. "I mean honestly…You and I almost get killed trying to do right by the world, and he decides to cash in on his fame?... Action figures, already? I can see merchandise with the Minutemen…they're all old guys now, that's kind of charming... But Veidt, I dunno, he makes it seem like it was just a publicity stunt the whole time." Dan said as he set the paper down and returned to his breakfast. "but…I guess I shouldn't be so hard on him, Everyone has to make ends meet I suppose." He added after moment's quiet.

Rorschach glanced at the paper, then mumbled coldly; "Looks like he more then makes ends meet."

"Yeah seriously, you'd think he's building an empire." Dan chuckled sarcastically. "Ah well…To each his own I suppose. Ozy's alright."

"Don't like him much." Rorschach replied, talking with his mouth full.

Dan wrinkled his nose at his partner's lack of table manners. "You don't like many people much."

"Hurm…guess not." The masked man said simply with a slight shrug. "You're okay though."

Dan smiled warmly at his friend across the table. It was Monday morning, chilly as the day before, but silvery sunlight was managing to burn away the overcast sky, spilling in through the kitchen window. Dan found himself fixated on the way the sun hit the visible part of his partner's face, the chapped lips and prickly, unshaven jaw. He could not place the features from anywhere, all he could gather was that the face looked rough and haggard in the cold white light of morning.

"How old are you Rorschach?" Dan inquired candidly. "I turned thirty this year, I think I told you that already though."

Rorschach reached for the sugar bowl, slipped a cube into his mouth and sucked on it for a while, appearing to give the question a great deal of consideration before eventually answering quietly; "Think I'm thirty-five…yeah… Thirty-five."

"I know what you mean man, once you get past your early twenties it all just starts to blur into meaningless numbers." Dan laughed. "I figured you were a little older then me."

"Why?"

"I dunno, a hunch I guess, you seemed a bit less green then me when I met you." Dan replied. "Do you remember when we first met? It took me forever to find you. I had no idea what kind of person you'd be, I just knew I wanted a partner."

"Remember very clearly. Did I disappoint you?" Rorschach asked in his usual raspy monotone.

"What?! No! I mean…you were a little grim, and pretty quiet… and I remember it took a lot to convince you to team up with me, but we had fun in the early days. You were really clever. I remember when we took out Big Figure. You came up with most of that plan."

"Hmm…_Were _really clever? You say that like I'm not now."

Dan felt a surge of heat to his face. "No! ha ha ha, You're still clever." Dan scratched his head nervously. "You have changed a bit since then…but I--"

"Might not be as…_clever_…as I once was. Understand things better now though... Know what needs to be done." Rorschach interrupted coolly.

Dan shivered. When Rorschach said things like; _Know what needs to be done. _Dan always felt the hairs rise on his neck. There was something very dark in those words. Before he allowed himself to dwell on the foreboding statement, Dan quickly tried to guide the subject back to a friendlier topic.

"What were you thinking when I showed up that night ten years ago? I remember you seemed kind of disappointed that I was able to track you down."

"Was disappointed, was still new to crime fighting. Was worried if you could find me, so could others." He was quite for a few moments, the black splotches drifting slowly over the vacant space where eyes should be. "Didn't like the idea of working with another person at first. Didn't think I'd work well on a team. Then you made some valid arguments…seemed like a sensible decision."

The simple logical response saddened Dan a bit. Having so few friendships, and certainly no others that lasted ten years, he felt the need to invest his memories with meaning. He remembered how excited he was that night ten years ago. With another capable crime fighter at his side the possibilities seemed endless, it felt like the beginning of something epic. It was somewhat disheartening to know that back then Rorschach saw it simply as a 'sensible decision'.

"Was the right choice. You proved trustworthy. Accomplished a lot together in ten years." Rorschach said finally, stealing one last sugar cube before setting the lid on the little ceramic bowl and sliding it away from himself.

"Yeah,… we have." Dan nodded with a smile and finished the last sip of coffee in his mug. Setting it down his eyes fell on the paper again. Adrian Veidt's tacky grin looked back him. His gaze drifted from the shining hero in print to the broken, battered vigilante at his table, the pale sun casting harsh shadows on what was visible of his worn face. _Ten years my friend…and they have not been kind to you…So you are thirty-five…How much longer can your body hold out?… how much longer can your mind? Another ten years perhaps?…Something tells me no…_

_***_

The day past quietly and by evening Dan was preparing to depart on his nightly rounds. The news of Adrien Veidt's new toy line had succeeded in making him feel the need to assert himself as a proper crime fighter. He was nervous about leavening Rorschach alone again, the first time did not go well, but given the morning's news Dan felt that it was something he had to do. His partner agreed, but Dan knew he would. There was nothing more important to Rorschach then their 'job'.

"Alright Ror, I'm going go downstairs get changed, and then head out. Let me help you get upstairs before I go." Dan said as he approached his partner, who was wrapped up on the couch with a book.

"…Ror?" The small vigilante replied curiously, looking up from his book. "Think I'll stay down here tonight…close to food, things to read, can sleep on couch."

"Suit yourself." Dan said with a smile, leaning over to give his partner a light pat on the shoulder. He actually felt better about Rorschach being on the first floor, there was less of a chance of him repeating the previous incident. "Okay then, guess I'm off! I'll be back around two or three o'clock most likely." As Dan turned towards the basement stairs he was startled by a rapping at his front door.

"Huh, that's odd." He muttered, peaking out the living room window to see who it was.

"Shit, its Hollis." Dan swore. He knew Rorschach likely did not want to be seen curled up on the couch in a tee-shirt and pajama bottoms, innocently drinking tea and munching on dry cereal, but more then that he did not want to face Hollis's reaction to Rorschach being there. "Why don't you go sit in the kitchen Rorschach… I won't bring him in there. I'll tell him I'm in a hurry to get out tonight, hopefully he won't stay but a few minutes." Dan suggested trying to sound simple and pragmatic. Rorschach stared at him briefly then slowly stood and limped into the kitchen as Dan turned to let his mentor in.

"Hi Hollis! How have you been? Sorry I haven't called in a while, this week's been crazy." He greeted the older man cheerfully, gesturing for him to come into the living room. The original Nite Owl smiled broadly, giving Dan an affectionate slap on the back as he entered.

"Its good to see you Danny. I was in the neighborhood, and figured I'd stop by. I got to admit, I've been a bit worried about you." Hollis replied taking a seat on the couch.

"Can I get you anything? A beer? Soda?" Dan offered.

"Nah, I can only stay for a minute or so, But I wanted to ask you about something."

Dan felt a quick surge of relief followed by apprehension.

"I'm sure you know what I'm talking about… in the paper this morning." Hollis began slowly, leaning forward, his voice marked with trepidation.

"About Ozymandias?" Dan started. "Yeah, it kind of upset me--"

"No, no. Not the Gazette, the Post. About you, or more so your…partner."

Dan felt as though his heart stopped cold. "A-about us? What? No. I didn't get the Post today."

"Seems you handed someone over to the police the other night. They interviewed the cop that brought him in, claims Rorschach might be dead. The article said you were alone, and that criminal was saying you two were almost killed last week. Danny,…what happened?" Hollis's aged, worried eyes were fixed on Dan, penetrating him.

"It was last Sunday…a bad night…really bad. We're alright now though." Dan replied quietly.

"And Rorschach?"

"He's fine."

"You're a bad liar Danny."

Dan swallowed hard. Hollis was right, he was a bad liar. He was quiet for a few seconds, but almost immediately regretted it. A raspy cough echoed in the kitchen. Dan could tell Rorschach had tried his best to stifle it, but in the silence it was deafening.

"He's in there isn't he." Hollis said in a voice just above a whisper.

"He's in real bad shape…Its only been a week,... He still can't even get up stairs on his own. I have to keep him here for a while, I can't imagine how he'd be able to care for himself." Dan was shamefully aware that he sounded apologetic at first, and attempted to make his final statement as firm as he could. "He is my partner Hollis."

The old man sighed. "Danny…I'm sorry. I know he's your friend, I don't really quite understand how that's possible with his type… but you do seem to care about him a lot… It's just that I worry about you, I only want you to be safe."

"I am." Dan replied quickly, feeling very uncomfortable under his mentor's disapproving gaze.

"Danny, I know you're a smart kid. Just be careful. That one isn't right. He's crazy Danny, I hate to say it but that's the honest truth of the matter. Just because he's injured doesn't mean he's harmless. Possibly the contrary. Wounded dogs bite first." The older man whispered fiercely, obviously trying not to let Rorschach hear.

Dan felt his face flush. "I think you should go…I'm sorry Hollis. I know you're only looking out for me…but…I, I just can't listen to you talk about him like that. He's not a dog…he's a man. A man I promised to look after."

The original Nite Owl shook his head wearily and laid a hand on Dan's shoulder. "I'm sorry Danny. I know its not my place to judge you. You're almost like a son to me. That's all. I never had a son you know?"

Dan swallowed hard, feeling guilty for upsetting Hollis, but still frustrated with his insistence that Rorschach was menace. "It was the Comedian… Ever since I found out what kind of man he was, I stopped giving people the benefit of the doubt when my gut tells me they're no good…Especially when it comes to people like us." Hollis continued, his voice low, filled with old grudges.

"Its alright Hollis, I understand where you are coming from… I'm running late though, I have to go out on patrol tonight, that article about Ozymandias made me feel like I should be out there. " Dan replied, escorting his mentor to the door, wanting desperately to put an end to the conversation. Hollis nodded and took Dan's hand before turning to go.

"Be safe Danny."

Dan nodded stiffly and watched his mentor go, waiting a few seconds before shutting the door. He turned quickly and headed to the kitchen, worried about how much of the conversation Rorschach had heard, and what he'd have to say about it. The masked vigilante was sitting at the table, his pale freckled arms folded around his torso, his small frame shivering slightly.

"I know, Its really chilly in here. The windows are old and drafty. I should have them replaced... C'mon you should go back into the living room, its warmer in there." Dan said as he reached out a hand to his friend. The black and white face rose to look at Dan for a moment, but then turned away. Dan caught the sound of a slow, ragged sigh from beneath the mask, but before he could say anything, Rorschach took his hand and leaned forward, standing slowly, first on his good leg, then carefully on the other. Once on his feet he let go of Dan's hand and limped into the living room, returning to his spot on the couch. Dan followed him, feeling guilty for the conversation that had just transpired.

"Do you need anything before I go?"

There was no response. Rorschach sunk into the pillows on the couch, pulling a blanket around himself.

"Alright…well,... I'll see you in the morning." Dan said softly, and turned towards the basement stairs.

"crazy…" The raspy voice caught him off guard, shattering the tense silence. "…a mad dog... that's what people think of me?...That I'm insane? " Rorschach began slowly.

"Rorschach--" Dan started, but his partner cut him off.

"…probably right…" The masked man whispered, and was quiet for a long time before he continued. "…don't think the way I used to…something feels like it snapped in my head…everything screaming." His voice trailed off, scarcely audible.

Dan felt his throat clench. This was another man talking, not Rorschach. He had heard echoes of this man before, when they drank together on his roof, when he had tried to remove the mask, and when he found him passed out in the hallway, but never had the voice been so unfiltered.

"Dangerous…your mentor thinks I'm dangerous… Might be right…but never…could never turn on you…" Dan thought he heard the raspy voice waver, and he knelt down beside the couch without speaking, wanting to let his partner say what he needed to without interruption.

"Feel like things are spinning out of control…don't know how many more years I have…but…still know you are good Daniel…sometimes think you are the only thing that is. Don't care what people think of me...except for you...don't want you to think I'm a threat... Never wanted to admit it... but was very happy when you found me ten years ago... only good thing that's ever happened to me."

For the average person, it would have seemed like a common show of emotion, but for Rorschach, it was a complete breakdown. Dan wanted more then anything to rip off the mask, and see the face of this person bleeding before him.

"Daniel…please…Take me with you tonight…can't be here alone…might…might not be alive when you come back."

Dan reached out and touched the fluid black and white face, running his thumb along the left cheek bone leaving a trail under the pressure that look like an inky tear. He gathered up the smaller man in his arms and gently pulled him close. Rorschach stiffened as he always did, and Dan could feel his chest shuddering with every breath. He did not know what to say, what words he could conjure to bring relief to a man who's world was nothing but rampant chaos and despair.

"Lets get the Hell out of this city tonight..."

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Author's notes: I hope i don't make old Hollis Mason look like too big a jerk. I really do like him, but he's just a normal upstanding guy, and I figure Rorschach would seem like trouble to him. Its getting tougher and tougher to write Ror, I can't tell ya how many times I write his dialogue then go and trim it back because I feel like its too much. I want so much to keep him in character, but still let him show some emotion. His recent mental decline is a major theme in this story, and I know on account of the 'awkward handshake' moment in the book where he says that he 'knows its sometimes difficult' that he is aware that he has problems. I hope I'm doing alright with Rorschach. He's so difficult!

--Jackie


	9. Chapter 9

For a costumed vigilante Daniel Dreiberg was not a spontaneous person. He preferred to have a plan before every mission, and rarely made decisions without good deliberation. He very seldom threw caution to the wind and did something simply because it felt right, or because in a singular moment it seemed like the only option. But on a chilly Monday night in October, he found himself carrying his broken partner onto his Owlship, preparing to race into the pitch-black sky, in a reckless, anguished attempt to outrun their own shadows.

"It's going to be okay…Try not to think about New York…Try not to think about everything that's happened here that's made you what you are…Tonight I'm getting you out of here." Dan said boldly as he carried his friend onto the ship. He was not sure if what was doing would help Rorschach, but he was not sure if anything really could. He only knew that he had to do something. Dan gently set the shaking body down in the passenger seat, wrapping him up in a heavy blanket before rushing off to grab a few provisions. He returned quickly and took a moment to buckle his partner's seat belt. With the exception of the shivering, the smaller man was like a lifeless doll, his head rolled despondently to the side.

"Hey,… look at me." Dan tilted the black and white face towards his own. "I know its hard for you… and I can't pretend to understand,… You've never let me know enough about yourself to even begin to…But for what its worth I've never regretted being your friend. I trust you. I know you're having a hard time with a lot of things… but I don't believe Hollis. I know you'd never hurt me. I know inside you're a good man."

Rorschach managed a weak nod and adjusted himself in his seat. "Where are we going?" He in inquired in a faint whisper.

"South of here, where it's a bit warmer. Along the coast. Its place I go to from time to time…" Dan replied as he took his seat at the controls, flicking various switches, bringing the ship to life.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because…You need to get out of this city…at least for a few hours. Archie can make long trips since I modified him two years ago…I do this fairly often. Don't worry." Dan said reassuringly as he pulled the craft out of his basement into the blackness of the abandoned subway tunnel.

They emerged from the east river. Dan took the ship up slowly at first, the glittering lights of the massive city spreading out before them. It was a familiar scene, the beginning of so many of their nights together. Rorschach leaned forward, fixating on the metropolis he had nearly died to protect.

"Sit back." Dan warned with a sly smile.

"..hmm?" Rorschach turned , confused.

Dan reached across to the passenger seat and laid his palm on his partner's chest, gently coaxing him to sit back. "I know you're still in pretty rough shape… If the pressure hurts you let me know. I'll slow down."

"Daniel…what are you talking ---"

Dan pushed the throttle and sent the ship blasting forward into a steep ascension. The city sunk away, the sharp spires of the skyscrapers shrinking below as the craft shot towards the gray night sky clouds like a bullet from a pistol. Dan felt as though the weight of all that had transpired fell behind him as the ship broke through first layer of cloud cover, revealing a sky full of vivid stars, invisible to the city below.

"Daniel!…Too fast…Too high…What are you doing?! Daniel!!" Rorschach gasped, marked panic evident in his raspy voice.

Dan laughed affectionately, he couldn't help but find his partner's sudden terror uplifting. It was better then him being so distraught, and it was fun to revel in the rare experience of being the braver half of their duo.

"D-Daniel!" Rorschach's every muscle was taunt, his back pressed against the seat, white clenched fingers dug into the arm rests. He had never flown like this, never cleared the city, never seen the sky open up before him like a black curtain flecked with diamond stars. His heart was smashing into his ribs with every beat, and the pressure of the ascension weighed down on his battered frame, crushing him.

"Ennk…Daniel…slow down…"

Dan smoothly brought the ship to an even cruise just above the clouds. He leaned over the control panel, typed in a few coordinates, then flicked the autopilot switch before turning to his partner.

"Sorry about that Ror. Heh…I might've been showing off a bit. Are you alright?"

The smaller man was panting, his damp palms still grasping the arm rests nervously. "D-didn't know Owlship could do that…"

"Yeah, Archie's a faster bird then you know, working in the city you don't really get to see what he's capable of." Dan replied proudly. "It's alright man, calm down, we're at our cruising altitude now. We just sail along like this for about two hours. You should get some sleep." He stood and approached his friend, lying a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. The smaller man stared suspiciously at his partner for a moment but eventually his tense muscles relaxed and he turned to look ahead. Cautiously he leaned forward, peering out the large circular window before him.

"Can't see the ground, only clouds… Strange, looks like you could walk on them, and it seems too light for nighttime."

"There's a full moon tonight, see?" Dan knelt down on the floor next to the passenger seat and pointed to the far upper right corner of the window. "Its above us, you have to bend down a bit to see it."

Rorschach slowly unbuckled his seat belt and slid off the passenger seat onto the floor in front of the massive orbital window. He carefully positioned himself on his hands and knees and crawled cautiously up to the glass, laying one nervous palm against the cold surface then the other. The moon was a vivid, blindingly white disk, a perfect silver circle against the fathomless expanse of deep blue night sky. Rorschach was silent, transfixed by the stark contrast.

"Beautiful…Perfect." He whispered.

Dan had never heard his partner use a word like 'beautiful' so reverently before, and he smiled. His idea seemed to be working, only moments outside of New York and already a sedate calm seemed to be settling over the masked man.

"Simple…pure…Just blue…and…silver… No confusion, just… perfect."

The small vigilante sat back on his knees, silent for a long while before he was taken by a convulsive shiver. He hissed through his teeth and rubbed his side. Dan was hit by an immediate surge of guilt and worry, he wondered if he should have given more thought to his partner's health before deciding to go out joyriding. He scooted his body over a little closer to his friend, reaching for the blanket which lay draped over the passenger seat. He pulled it around Rorschach's trembling shoulders, rubbing his back in an attempt to warm him up a bit.

"Are you alright? I shouldn't have gone so fast back there. I hope I didn't hurt ya."

"No…fine like this… feels good to be up here. The night never looks like this in New York. So empty up here. Quiet…Like it." Rorschach pulled the blanket around himself, continuing to gaze at the large moon, its pale ghostly light spilling over his features.

"Maybe you should try and sleep a bit… We'll be cruising for a while." Dan suggested again, still worried about how well his sickly partner would hold up during travel. "There are cots in the back that pull down from the wall, let me set one up for you. " Rorschach said nothing at first, but watched Dan head to the back of the ship and begin to set up a place for him to rest.

"You worry about me too much Daniel." He replied softly, almost to himself.

"Can't help it, I think I'm just the worrying type…and you give me plenty to work with." Dan returned to where the masked man was still sitting on the floor, looking ever so small and fragile in the cold blue moonlight. _I still never get used to seeing you so compromised, so helpless…You, who always seemed impervious, like an unbreakable, vicious force of nature. _Dan thought to himself as he helped his friend to the bed he'd made up for him.

"Just sleep, I'll wake you when we get there." He said with a warm smile as Rorschach laid down, curling up slightly. Dan returned to the front of the ship and collapsed into the pilot's seat, feeling very emotionally drained. As he reclined, gazing outward at the endless sky, he thought about the events that brought him to this point on a cold October night, and about the man already snoring softly on the cot behind him. It seemed like so little had actually happened to incite such a complete collapse of Rorschach's psyche, but that had been the way of things over the past week. Without his physical strength, the confidence and bravado of New York's most feared vigilante crumbled to ash. _You aren't the same when you can't hide behind the killer…you're fragile… sensitive even…The screws really are so very loose…_

_***_

It was close to one in the morning when Dan brought the ship down along a desolate strip of sandy coast. Before wakening his still soundly sleeping partner, he stepped outside alone to check the temperature. As he suspected it was a bit chilly, but still considerably warmer then New York would've been. _What am I doing? Why did I bring him out here, there's really nothing for us to do… _Dan questioned himself. It had been a spur of the moment decision to drag his partner out to this far-flung stretch of beach off the coast of the North Carolina, and now that he had arrived he wasn't sure what to do. He stood there for long while, his consciousness drifting, until a shuffling sound snapped him quickly back to reality.

"Thought you said you'd wake me when we got here…" Rorschach was standing at the door of the Owlship, his black and white face peering curiously around the corner.

"Sorry, I was about to. Just came out to check the weather. It'll a still pretty cold. Let me get you something to wrap up in." Dan replied, returning to the ship. He produced a huge fluffy coat inspired by a snowy owl that he sometimes used for extremely cold temperatures. The masked vigilante gave the gray hooded cloak a long stare before reluctantly allowing Dan to throw it around him.

"Where are we?" Rorschach pulled the furry coat tightly around himself and stepped out of the craft. He drew back immediately when his thin bare toes touched the cool white sand.

"Hurm…"

He limped around to the front of the ship with considerable difficulty, the uneven ground complicating what was already painful for the wounded man. Dan followed, reaching out nervously, wanting to steady him. The small vigilante stopped on the other side of the aircraft, facing the open ocean. He slowly sunk into a seated position, shapeless beneath the massive winter coat.

"We don't have to stay very long, I know its cold." Dan sat down on the sand beside his friend. The two men were entirely alone on the beach, There was not a single other human for miles. The long stretch of pale sand appeared ghostly blue under the full moonlight, and the sound of the surf was eerily soft and rhythmic.

"Are you alright now?" Dan said cautiously after a long pause, turning to face his silent partner.

Rorschach did not respond right away, his face remained fixed ahead on the distant horizon, the cold breeze ruffling the gray fur cloak.

"Alright?…No…Better?…Suppose so… Never really alright."

Dan nodded sadly. "Did you mean what you said?…When you … implied that you might kill yourself…" The words tasted bad on his tongue, and he wished almost immediately he had not asked the question. He already knew the answer.

"Would not say something like that if I did not mean it. Would not lie to garner sympathy. Not searching for pity." Rorschach growled.

Dan was not perturbed by his partner's moodiness. In fact the irritable response sounded pleasantly familiar, like the old Rorschach before this crisis had befallen them.

"I'm sorry, I know you would not lie about something like that,…or rather much of anything. You value honesty. " he replied calmly. "I am surprised you said it though… I'm glad you did…but surprised. You would not have said that if you did not want my help."

The smaller man flinched, but said nothing, not giving his partner so much as a sideways glance. Finally he turned to Dan, his strange eyeless face focused on steadily on him.

"Did not want to put you through that Daniel. Not fair to you after you have been so good to me. Did not want you to come home to that."

The notion that Rorschach had reached out for help only to spare him the pain of returning home to a corpse summoned mixed feeling in Dan, and he considered his response carefully before replying.

"I am grateful…It would've hurt to come home to that…but not because there would be a dead body in my house,…but because it would be _your_ dead body." he paused, feeling his throat tighten. "I'm worried about you Ror." Dan blinked rapidly and focused his gaze on the ocean, trying to regain his composure, wanting badly to keep up the appearance of strength.

"Don't know if I like that nickname." Rorschach whispered, his voice ever so slightly tinged with affection, only perceivable to someone who knew him well.

"Your name is too damned long and awkward…" Dan sniffled and then laughed, his tone shaky. "…and you never gave me anything else to call you." He sniffled again and took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "I am worried about you though…I have been for a while…since before you were injured."

"I know."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Rorschach shivered beneath the thick cloak and pulled it tighter around his small shoulders.

"Not everything is like a machine in your workshop Daniel…Some things are broken for good…"

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Forgive me for the late update! It was a busy week. The next one might be early though. :D I'm thinking of doing a special chapter after the next one. Kind of a short supplemental chapter that is more form Ror's perspective, perhaps a journal entry, unless that is, you readers think that would be a bad idea.

--Jackie


	10. Chapter 10

Despite taking two hours to get to that isolated beach their stay was relatively brief. The wind was cold and it was not long before Dan could hear his partner's teeth chattering. The trip had served it purpose, Rorschach seemed to have returned to some level of stability.

"Lets go home. Its almost two-thirty, if we leave now we can get to sleep by five, and wake up around noon. I'll make us a good lunch." Dan suggested, brushing the sand off his trousers as he got to his feet. Rorschach nodded in reply and quietly accepted Dan's assistance as he stood, his limbs feeling cold and stiff. He paused for a moment before turning to the ship.

"Nice beach, too bad its cold and dark. Not very good beach weather."

"Yeah, used to come here with my family when I was a kid, its a nice place. You're right though, beaches are better in the summer."

"Those times when you told me you were taking vacations, is this where you went?" Rorschach inquired curiously as they returned to the ship.

"Ha ha ha…Yeah, here and other places, went to the Caribbean once, and to South America. I think I might try going to Spain too. Ever since I modified Archie, I can go wherever I want." Dan chuckled, turning the lights on inside the craft.

"Hurm…Always wondered where you went."

"Yeah, I dunno…I just need to get out of that city sometimes."

"Never invited me to come along before." Rorschach replied in his low raspy monotone as he buckled himself into the passenger seat.

The statement hit Dan like a slap in the face. It was true, he had never invited Rorschach to join him on his 'vacations', but not for a moment did he think that his ever somber partner would want to go.

"I'm sorry,…I guess I just never thought you'd want to come with me. You always seem interested in nothing but work. And when I'm traveling, I go out in broad daylight you know? It would be a little weird walking down a street in Curacao with some guy wearing a mask and a trench coat."

"Yes, suppose you are right about that."

"Well,…You're invited now, to the next place I go, where ever it is. I mean it. We're friends after all." Dan offered as he took the ship up, this time more slowly.

"Thanks. Will most likely decline however, been inactive long enough already. Will need to work very hard to make up for it."

"So serious." Dan laughed. "Always work."

"Nothing else makes sense, don't fit in very well in other aspects of life… Been difficult this past week… Have enjoyed some of it though."

Dan's curiosity peeked. "Like what?"

"Your cooking…very good…"

Dan grinned broadly. "Ha ha, Thanks, I've been trying my best." He was quiet for a moment before continuing, his tone more sincere. "Things don't have to go back to the way they were ya know? You don't have to be recovering from traumatic injuries to spend time with me outside of 'work'. You can come over for dinner whenever you like."

Rorschach did not answer at first, instead he stared ahead silently at the expanse of clouds drifting below. Eventually he spoke, his gravely voice just above a whisper.

"Might do that, should probably eat better…even before injuries, sometimes felt light headed, often hungry, hands were shaky,… not good for fighting crime." Dan could feel his heart sink. He remembered the times when his partner would show up early for their patrol to rummage through his kitchen, often devouring an entire box of cereal while he got changed into his owl suit. He had always taken it as just another of Rorschach's quirks, and likely something he did out of impatience. Now he knew he did it simply because he was starving. Sometimes after a night on patrol Dan would make breakfast when they returned. Rorschach always seemed reluctant to stay around after work was over, but he rarely declined, and it made sense now; he was too desperate to turn down food.

"Geeze man… I've always thought you were hard up for cash, but there's no reason for you to go hungry. I have all the money I need, you can eat my food. After this is over, and things go back to normal, I don't want you starving yourself any more…Damn, all these years I donate food to charities and my best friend is going hungry."

"Best friend?…hurm…"

Dan felt a surge of heat to his face, he had used the term candidly, not thinking of the weight of what he had said. It was true of course, Dan had so few friends, and he certainly spent more time with Rorschach then anyone else, but it was still odd to refer to him in such a way. So little of their relationship consisted of what normal friendships would.

"Never been called that before." The masked man's tone was soft, shy even.

Dan could feel his palms grow sweaty, but he didn't know why he felt so nervous all of the sudden, the last week had brought about stranger moments.

"You want friends Daniel, can tell this about you. I'm not a very good one,…can tell that about myself. If you had more friends, you wouldn't call me that. I'm only your best friend because you don't have any others." His tone was not resentful. If anything it was sad, apologetic.

"It doesn't matter Rorschach. Look at us, we're in a flying ship that looks like an owl for God's sake… We wear costumes, and try to be heroes by night. We're not normal people. We cannot expect to have normal friendships." Dan had known this in his gut for years, but he had tried to ignore it. Now however, after admitting that someone like Rorschach was the only person he could think of to call his 'best friend', there was no denying it.

"It's alright Ror, you're a fine friend for me. What can I say? We're just fucked up crazy people trying to fix the fucked up crazy world that made us this way. We're made for each other." Dan chuckled, the sudden clarity of his situation seemed hopelessly amusing.

"Bad language Daniel." Rorschach replied quietly.

***

It was close to four-thirty in the morning when the lights of New York City came into focus as Dan took the Owlship down below the clouds.

"Wonder what sort of night it's been…" Dan muttered absently and turned on his surveillance radio, tuning it to the police frequency. At first there was nothing interesting, but then the voice of an angry and exasperated officer came through. Dan could see Rorschach sit up slightly.

_Black Mercedes heading north, Do you see him Jack? _

_Damn it! We lost visual…That bastard's gonna get away again… Ya know, I hate those masked fuckers but I wish they'd bring this asshole in already…I'm sick of chasing him._

_Know what you mean Bob…I'm at the point where I don't care who brings Antonio Seville in, I just want him off our streets._

_Roger that…_

_Fuck it…lost him…Damn…_

"Seville…" Rorschach growled.

Dan stood abruptly, walked to the back of ship, and began to undress.

"I know where he's running…Want to see how many he's with…I can't stand it,…He can't get away again." Dan muttered furiously as he pulled on his costume.

"Daniel…Bad idea, almost killed us last week, can't go alone. Better to wait." It was unlike Rorschach to be cautious, but Dan knew the truth. He wanted the crime lord to himself. He wanted revenge.

"What? Wait a month or longer for you to get better? I don't think so Ror, who knows what else he could do by then. Look, I know we walked into a trap last time, but this is perfect. Nobody is expecting me…They know you're out of commission and they would never expect me to do something so brash. This is the perfect chance." Dan moved rapidly about the craft, collecting various items and gadgets, stuffing some into his utility belt and strapping others to his body under his cloak. Rorschach watched him uneasily from the passenger seat.

"Daniel, must be careful."

Dan paused, the genuine concern in his partner's raspy voice catching him off guard. Feeling a little guilty for his sudden impassioned haste, he approached the smaller man and laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Don't worry. I will be. I'm just going to get a look at their hideout first, see how many there are. If I can take um, I'll go in. If not, I'll be right back. We've been at this ten years Rorschach, I know what I'm doing."

Rorschach's masked face turned to the hand on his shoulder then to the face of his partner. "Been ten years Daniel,… ten years with a partner…Dangerous to take on a boss alone. Should know that."

"You've gone solo a few times this past decade if I recall." Dan challenged.

"…Hurm…"

"I'll be careful."

Dan, now fully equipped as 'Nite Owl' took his seat at the controls and piloted the hovercraft to the south Bronx, landing it quietly in an abandoned parking lot behind a derelict factory. He shut down all the electrical devices, including the lights, leaving the craft silent and entirely dark. He felt a fluttering serge of adrenaline in his stomach as the last light dimmed. Turning to Rorschach he whispered sternly;

"Do not leave this ship. If anyone comes and attacks just pretend you aren't here, if it gets really bad use the flame thrower, that might scare them off. This one here…" Dan pointed out an obviously labeled button on the control panel. "I know you don't really know how to fly him, but if you have to, this is how you turn him on, and then just push the throttle and pull back on the steering, you've seen me do it before…" Dan glanced at his partner who nodded slowly, but otherwise offered no inclination that he understood. "Archie is bullet proof, I really doubt there is anything anyone could throw at him that would make you need to move. Just to be safe though, go to the back, try not to let anyone see that you're in here. I'll be back soon." Dan gave his partner one last pat on the shoulder and turned to go. Just before he locked down the side door he shot the masked man one final look.

"Just wait for me here. Do not leave this ship."

***

Dan was grateful for the damp fog blanketing the city as he dashed across the rooftops of the south Bronx slums. The misty vapor made him feel less exposed, less alone in the black night just before the dawn. He made a final leap off a seven story building, not even breaking stride as he vaulted from the ledge, opening his glider cape and coasting to the roof of a seemingly abandoned warehouse across the street. He was about a block from Archie now, and Rorschach. He allowed himself one final anxious glance over his shoulder before turning all his focus to the mission ahead.

It all went faster then Dan could have imagined, there were only three men including the boss. The shock on their faces when he came crashing in from above was delicious. They were all drunk, celebrating another successful escape from the law, and very slow on the reaction. It was almost too easy. Before long he had all three of them bound to a lamp post a block over where they would be easy to find, and he had called the police. The officer sounded exasperated over the phone, his voice a strange mix of gratitude and contempt. Dan was used to it by now. He perched on an overlooking ledge a few stories up, watching the lamp post until the police arrived, wanting to make sure his prey was in custody before returning to the Owlship. The sky was beginning to burn purple on the eastern horizon, the wind caught his cape, and Dan felt a deep sense of accomplishment. He lived for this. If only Rorschach were well enough to savor the moment with him.

Dan watched the red taillights of the police car disappear south towards Manhattan. He breathed deep, his heart felt light for the first time in days. He leapt gracefully from the ledge doing a full twist in the air as a diver might from a spring board, before unfurling his cloak and gliding softly to the concrete. He had good reason to allow himself some theatrics, he had just single handedly brought down one of New York's most feared crime bosses. He slipped down an ally as quietly as a cat, and headed towards the parking lot where he had left Archie. He was giddy with anticipation. He could not wait to tell Rorschach what he had accomplished. It was so long since he had felt this way, so long since being a vigilante seemed pure and heroic.

_BANG BANG BANG_

The gunshots shattered the calm of breaking dawn as if it were glass. A bullet took Dan in the side, another zipped past his head, narrowly missing him. Searing pain blinded him, and the air was knocked forcefully from his lungs, but he was quick. He dove and rolled sideways behind a dumpster, straining to catch his breath. He allowed himself a split second glance at his stomach, there was plenty of gun shot residue but his armor had held. _Another nasty bruise, but nothing worse. _He thought with a momentary surge of relief. Another round of shots rang out, and Dan braced himself against the metal of the dumpster waiting out the onslaught. _Who are these guys? _

He heard the click of an empty pistol and saw his chance. He grabbed a trash can lid and held it in front of him as he sprang from behind the dumpster. There were only three, but one of them was freakishly large, and all were armed.

"I'll shoot him down Rick! Gut that fucker like you did his bitch! We finish these guys, all of New York answers to us!" One of the smaller thugs yelled to the giant of a man who was pulling a large knife from inside his coat.

Another round of shots rang out, but Dan avoided them, landing a powerful kick to the head of the other gunman causing his weapon to spin out, and his body to fall unconscious to the pavement. _One down…_

He whirled around and landed punch to the face of the other gunman, sending him reeling backwards.

"CUT THAT SON OF A BITCH IN HALF!" The gunman screeched as he stumbled back against a brick wall. Dan was as fast as he could be but it was too late. Before he could make a full turn the third man, the beast, was on him. A massive hand grasped his throat, squeezing his windpipe, strangling him. The other hand held the knife, poised to end him in the most painful of ways. Dan grabbed the wrist, trying to hold back the weapon as the massive man bore down on him, but he was suffocating, white spots flecking his vision, his strength failing. _Rorschach…you were right…_

_BANG!…click…click…click…_

A single shot rang out followed by the sound of an empty round. The behemoth let out a roar and released Dan, spinning wildly to see where his assailant had come from. The shot had landed in the thug's shoulder, not enough to take him down, but enough to get his attention. Dan gasped and tried to focus. _What happened…what…NO…Fuck NO…_

"YOU!" The large thug snarled, advancing on someone a few yards down the ally. "You fucking… little… BASTARD!…I'm going to kill you this time…I'm going smash that freak face of yours into the ground until there is nothing left!"

Dan stumbled to his feet, out of the corner of his eye he could see the smaller thug trying to reload his pistol. Furiously he rushed him, breaking the wrist, then thrusting the body aside, before turning back to the large man. He was moving towards another figure in the ally, like a lion about to deliver its wrath upon its prey, his weapon brandished and ready. A smaller man, not even half the size of the behemoth, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, and gray cotton drawstring pants was inching back, still clutching the empty pistol, his telltale black and white face focused fearlessly on the massive thug.

_Rorschach…_

Something snapped in Dan and he was propelled by a vicious surge of adrenaline.

"DON'T… YOU… TOUCH HIM!!"

He threw himself at the gigantic thug, wrenching his weapon arm backwards. There was a loud and sickening tearing sound, followed by a disturbing 'pop' as the arm dislocated from the shoulder. Mercilessly Dan continued, driving the man's head into the concrete, shattering his nose. Twisted pleasure burned in his chest as strangled cries erupted from massive man, but Dan wasn't finished. He planted a foot into the thug's back and pulled the man's leg towards himself, finishing with a swift heel drop to the shin, shattering the bone, rendering him helpless.

His rage slowly subsiding, Dan stepped away from his vanquished foe, gasping and panting, twitching with the last traces of adrenaline. He swallowed hard, trying to bring himself out of his fury induced insanity, before turning to Rorschach. The smaller vigilante was still standing, but visibly shaking, not from fear, Dan was sure of that, but from exertion. Rorschach released the empty weapon and it fell at his feet with a hollow clack. He wavered for a moment, then lost his balance, stumbling forward.

Dan caught him, and without saying a word lifted him up. He said nothing as he carried his partner back to ship, as he secured him in the passenger seat, or as he piloted the craft home. It was not until Dan parked the ship safely in his basement and turned off all the humming electrical equipment that he finally spoke.

"You saved my life Rorschach."

"…You saved mine…"

Dan turned to the smaller vigilante beside him, Rorschach was spent, his small frame was shuddering with every painful inhalation, and Dan could hear his breath rattling in his lungs.

"You _ran _out there…How?'

"Heard shots…Thought of you…had to do something…couldn't just sit and wait…Didn't hurt then, was compelled…but hurts now…hurts bad…will be fine though. " Rorschach replied, trying to shrug off the obvious agony he was in.

Dan gasped his partner's icy hand and squeezed it tight, then he pulled him close, embracing him gently. He knew these moments would disappear when Rorschach's strength returned, but for now he could get away with it, for now he could be honest with what was in his heart.

"Don't you dare…Don't you ever doubt that you are good enough for me again."

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Hi Friends! Okay, so the next chapter will be a sort of 'break' chapter, from Ror's perspective. I miiight have it done early. We shall see! Thanks so much for all the reviews, I can't believe this fic has nearly 100. --blushes-- I have to admit, I've seen some stuff on here picking on some of the Watchmen fics that involve well,...pretty much exactly what this fic is about. I hope I don't come off as clique or to overly fan-girly. I'm trying very hard to walk the line between sentiment and believability. There is certainly the fangirl side of me that would just love to turn this into a sappy alternate-universe slash fic, BUT the serious watchmen fan in me fights the urge, and I hope keeps the upper hand. Thanks again for the love. Will try to update soon!

--Jackie


	11. Interlude

Okay, so here is the promised 'Rorschach chapter'. If you all like it I may do one more near the end of this fanfic. A little warning ahead of time, I know like 90% of you readers don't mind in the least..., but this chapter may come off as a little more 'slashy' then some of the others. Nothing physical though. (sorry ;P lol)

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It was some time around two in the afternoon when the sun would find its way most directly into Daniel Dreiberg's guest room window. The light spilled over Rorschach's face, warming the fabric of his mask. He shifted slightly, bringing his knees towards his chest as it was his habit to sleep curled up. A sharp pain brought him quickly to awareness, and he straightened a bit, relaxing the pressure on his ribcage. His body ached terribly, even more so then it had in previous days, and he remembered the events of the night before. He had strained himself more then he should have, but there was no other choice, Daniel was in danger.

He pushed himself up onto his elbow and looked around. He felt a sudden shock hit him as he took in the sight of Daniel, snoring softly, sprawled sideways across the bottom of the bed. He was still in his costume with the exception of the hood, and he was oddly positioned with his feet on the floor. Rorschach shook his head trying to recall the moments before he'd fallen asleep and why his partner was in bed with him, even if he was at the very bottom edge. He recalled Daniel carrying him up the stairs and laying him down, then sitting for a moment. They were both exhausted, he must have just laid back and fallen asleep there. He was still in uniform after all.

Rorschach's nerves subsided after he reasoned with all certainty that nothing 'unnatural' had occurred the night before. He stared for a long while at his partner's sleeping form, his body relaxed, limbs sprawled out, lips slightly parted, entirely at piece. Rorschach never slept like that. Even if he fell asleep stretched out, which he rarely did, he always woke on his side, curled tightly. He did not know what it felt like to be so calm, even in sleep his world was on fire, and his mind burned. As Rorschach's eyes lingered on his partner, he became aware of a growing uncomfortable tightness in his chest and throat, a feeling he had experienced before in Daniel's presence but always tried his best to ignore completely.

Eventually he crawled forward and lifted a trembling hand. He did not like how his hands shook, he wished they'd be still, but it seemed his muscles had not the strength to hold his own limbs steady. Daniel said it would go away, once he over came his anemia. Rorschach hoped he was right. He poked at the sleeping man then drew back quickly, sitting patiently, waiting for him to awaken. Daniel twitched, then squinted in the blinding early afternoon sun. His head turned to the side and looked upon Rorschach before pushing himself up on his elbows.

"Damn man…I'm sorry…I must've fallen asleep here. I remember carrying you up to this room…Then I think I just kinda passed out. Aaaaahhhgghh…" He groaned and rubbed at his side. "I do _not_ want to see what that bruise looks like…"

"You are hurt?" Rorschach asked leaning forward.

"I got shot…its alright though, good body armor." Daniel gave his stomach a light pat. "You're probably hurting worse then me. How are you looking under there? Still lots of bruising?"

Rorschach felt a surge of heat to the back of his neck. The thought of his exposed body made him uncomfortable. "…Alright, yes…still a lot of bruises…, There might be more now…cuts are still there, healing though." he answered nervously.

Daniel nodded. "Do you mind if I have a look? I just want to make sure nothing is infected…you aren't…um,...well you've only bathed like twice in the past week, you probably should be keeping those wounds cleaner…"

Rorschach shifted nervously. He did not like being touched, he was very ticklish for one thing, a fact he preferred to keep to himself, and human contact summoned up feelings he did not understand and was not comfortable with. _Why is Daniel doing this to me so early?…Just want breakfast… he can examine me later… _He thought bitterly.

"Want to shower first…hungry too…you can check later…" He replied quietly. If this were only a few days prior Rorschach would've likely snarled his reply contemptuously, but after the past week, and all that had transpired, there was no venom in him for Daniel. Not for Daniel who had so freely called him friend, who had cared for him, who had watched over him, and who had held him in his arms without any reservations, as if it were completely natural, as if he loved him.

"Alright, that sounds good Ror, I'll get breakfast started…well I guess its more like lunch now. You can get in the shower." Dan replied and stood up, stretching. "Do you need help at all?"

Rorschach shook his head. He loathed being assisted in his daily tasks, and anything involving the bathroom was humiliating beyond all reason. He knew Daniel was well meaning, but there was a part of him that would rather smash his head on the tile and bleed to death then be assisted bathing himself, shaving, or any other such activities.

Once Daniel had left the room, Rorschach proceeded to the bathroom, a ball of clean clothing under his arm. He leaned on the wall as he walked, his left leg still sore from the bullet wound in his thigh, and badly strained from the previous night's 'adventure'. He shut the door firmly behind him. He considered locking it but changed his mind. If he were to pass out and crack his skull, he might as well make it easier for Daniel to find the body.

Rorschach let out a ragged sigh and began to undress. He hated the way everything hurt, the way he was plagued with sharp pains every time he bent his torso too far, how his head felt strange and achy when he would tilt it certain ways, how his stomach was still so tender from the deep laceration. He loathed how vulnerable he knew he was, how poorly he'd be able to defend himself if need be. He removed his shirt first, followed by his pants and underwear, last of all his mask.

His eyes fell on his own feet below him, somewhat large for his size, and very bony with ugly crooked toes, broken a few times in the past. His gaze moved up the entirety of his awkward body, his scarred knees, narrow hips, unimpressive genitals, and pale, freckled, nearly hairless torso. He looked sadly atrophied, the week of inactivity already taking a toll. He had never liked his body, but in his best condition at least his compact muscular figure served to give him some sense of security. Now however, it appeared to be waning and he was reminded of the thin pitiful boy he was before becoming a crime fighter.

He looked up to meet his own gaze in the mirror. Rorschach had little love for his body, but it was nowhere near the abhorrence he felt every time he met the ruined blue eyes of Walter Kovacs. He exhaled slowly. The haggard face stared back at him, thin, weathered, destroyed, the product of everything he hated. He had been told his entire life that it was an ugly face, and he believed it whole-heartedly. The bones were too prominent, the cheeks sunken, the hair was a strange vivid red, the ears stuck out, and there were too many freckles. Worst of all it was a face that still bore resonance of an abused child and of a sad wretched little man working for minimum wage in the garment district. It was not the face of Rorschach.

Still the blue eyes stared desperately back at him, and a weak voice echoed innocently from the very deepest part of his consciousness. _I want to meet Daniel…Please…Just want him to know me… maybe…he'll still like me…maybe…Maybe he'll--- _

"No…" Rorschach threatened in a low hiss. "You are dead Walter…and even if you weren't…he'd _never_ like you. Nobody ever has…You are…worthless."

Bitterly, he tore himself away from the mirror, disgust welling up inside him like a sickness. He clumsily staggered into the shower and turned the water on. It was icy cold at first, causing every hair on his body to stand on edge, and his fair skin to turn a shade paler to ashy white. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and shivered, his nails digging painfully into his upper arms. His head was bent, dead eyes fixed on the chill drops of water running down his nose. He could feel a building pain in his chest and his throat clenched.

"Daniel…"

His partner's name rested on his lips like the final line of a prayer. The falling water grew warmer as he sunk to his knees, his eyes remaining fixed on the hypnotic pattern created by the drops as they hit the tub and spiraled down the drain.

_Spiraling away,… no escape…down… down… down…everything spinning down…alone._

His vision blurred, his throat tightened, and his lungs burned.

"Why… Why is Walter still being punished? Haven't I been good?" He whimpered so quietly even he could scarcely hear himself amidst the sound of the running water. "Daniel is so kind…He said... he said I was his best friend… nobody ever, ever said that about me…"He choked on every word. His face fell into his hands, his shoulders pitched forward, and he curled as tightly as he could before the pain in his ribs and stomach became unbearable.

"Just want to take the face off…Just want…to…be…..."

***

Rorschach exited the bathroom, clean and shaven. He slipped on the mask as he limped across the hallway, not wanting to risk being seen. Upon reaching his room he shut the door tightly behind him and proceeded to the bed, laying down carefully on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He pulled off his mask, wanting to allow his hair a chance to dry before he put it back on. He liked how his skin felt fresh and warm, relieved of the usual itchiness and discomfort that came from poor hygiene. Over the past months his bathing habits had declined such that he was beginning to forget what it felt like to be clean. After quitting his day job, he could not afford to live in anything other then a tiny single room in a dilapidated old tenement building, never renovated since its construction around the turn of the century. It only had one bathroom per floor, so he had to share it with three other apartments. This made him very uncomfortable, so consequentially he tended to avoid showering until it was absolutely necessary, and did so very quickly. He wondered a moment about his apartment, if anyone had noticed how long he'd been gone. He doubted they had.

He reached under his pillow and pulled out a small flip-top yellow note pad. He has stolen it from Daniel's desk and used it as his journal over the past week. It was his habit to record his days, it helped him deal with his thoughts, make sense of things. He paged through it, absently reading over the entries.

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Tuesday October 7th__ , 1975 (morning)_

_Finally able to sit up long enough to write. Daniel has been overbearing. In pain, just want to sleep, keeps trying to make me drink water. I am feeling very sick. Have a cut that runs the entire length of my torso. Daniel says my organs were visible, bad thought, I don't like anyone seeing my insides. Tired now, need to sleep more. _

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Tuesday October 7__th__ , 1975 (evening)_

_Violated today. Miss Juspeczyk came by. She meant well, brought cookies, and medicine. Did not want her to see me like this, do not want anyone to. I was angry with Daniel, tried to leave. Couldn't take it anymore, this humiliation. Daniel stopped me, grabbed me, and laid me back down. I Don't know what to write about this, mixed feelings. Daniel. Says he wants to know who I am, says he's happy to have me around. Probably lying to keep me from leaving. Hurts too much to sit up any longer. Will write more tomorrow._

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Wednesday October 8__th__ , 1975_

_Violated again. Daniel changed my bandages, cleaned wounds. Degrading. Body sometimes reacts strangely on its own when touched, can't control it. Don't like things I can't control, so would prefer not to be touched. Daniel means no harm, just wants to make me well. I don't believe his intentions were licentious. He says my freckles are 'human'. Human,… not ugly. Most likely lying._

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Thursday October 9__th__ , 1975_

_Slept a lot today, Daniel comes in to bother me every few hours. He talks a lot about many things, for my part I just lay in bed. Occasionally interject when he says something relevant, but mostly just listen. Daniel deserves more interesting company. _

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Friday October 10__th__ , 1975 (early afternoon)_

_Uneventful so far. Feeling slightly better. Turns out Miss Juspeczyk makes very good cookies. Delicious, lots of chocolate chips. I have eaten five of them so far today. Must remember to thank her again once this is over. Daniel wants to play a board game, I will humor him. _

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Saturday October 11__th__ , 1975_

_Daniel is out on patrol. For the better. Do not like the idea of scum infesting the city while we sit at home. I drank alcohol last night, it was good, did not expect it to be. Sweet, like tangerines, or apples in the fall when they taste the best. Finished bottle, woke up feeling a little sick. Daniel says he's having nightmares about the incident. Daniel is soft as always. I should not be hard on him though, sounds like he saw too much. Don't really remember myself, was unconscious for the most part. Bored, can't sleep. Nothing really to write about. Want something to read. _

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Sunday October 12__th__ , 1975_

_Violated yet again. Close call, identity nearly compromised. Was naked in front of Daniel, the entirety of my disgusting body visible to him. Reacted quickly, but fell, ended up in Daniel's arms without clothes, skin wet and slippery. Indecent, perverse situation. Still haunting me. Angry with Daniel, should've knocked. Very rude. _

_Rorschach's Journal_

_Monday October 13__th__ , 1975_

_Told Daniel my age over breakfast. It took a moment to remember. Don't think much about the time I've spent on this wretched earth. Feels too long already. Enjoyed breakfast very much, Daniel makes delicious pancakes, and buys better maple syrup then what is offered in diners. We talked about the old days, when we first met. Daniel smiles a lot when he talks, wonder if he is really that happy…I think I might have smiled too, but he could not see it…better that way._

Rorschach slid the notepad back under his pillow before allowing himself to collapse against the sheets, exhaling slowly, his ribcage aching as his chest sunk. His blue eyes focused blankly on the ceiling, and he was still, listening intently to his own raspy breathing, and the rhythmic beat of his pulse whispering in his veins. In the silence he was reminded of a clock. _Tick tick tick tick…_

"Time's running out." He said softly in a voice that felt like it belonged to someone else.

There was a sharp knock at the door and Rorschach responded by quickly pulling his mask over his head.

"Daniel?…you can come in."

Daniel entered, smiling brightly.

"All clean?" He asked cheerfully.

Rorschach nodded, slowly pushing himself up into a seated position.

"I've got food ready for lunch downstairs. There's stuff for sandwiches, and I made some iced tea, extra sweet. I was thinking of you."

_I was thinking of you. _The words lingered in Rorschach's mind as he looked up at his partner, the unpleasant tightness in his chest resurfacing. For a moment he said nothing, hanging on the simple statement, and then nervously cleared his throat.

"Thank you…" He whispered.

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Oh-ho-ho. So much angst in this one. Little note about my description of Kovacs, even though this fic is more 'book based' I gave him blue eyes like in the movie. I think he's supposed to have brown eyes in the GN, but its kinda up for interpretation since the color is so wild. I just love him with blue eyes, it somehow seems more fitting, and I can never get the image of JEH in the 'death scene' out of my head. JEH really became my human vision of Walter and those desperate blue eyes are just too perfect.


	12. Chapter 11

Author's notes: This chapter takes place directly after the last one. I just wanted to make it clear that very little time has past, and Ror is still in the same state of mind he was in at the end of the last chapter. enjoy! :)

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"You're quiet." said Dan as he spread some spicy mustard across a slice of whole wheat bread. Rorschach did not respond. He instead curiously surveyed the array of lunch meat, cheeses, pickles, condiments and other sandwich components spread out over the small kitchen table.

"Too many choices…" He muttered.

Dan scratched his head. "Heh heh…yeah…might have gone a bit overboard. I ran across the street to the deli while you were in the shower. I wanted to make sure I got something you like. You deserve it after what you did for me last night."

"You should know by now that I eat anything." Rorschach replied with a grunt that almost sounded like a laugh. "You feed me better then I've ever eaten. Would get fat if I lived here permanently."

Dan chuckled loudly and reached for the spiced ham. "You? I don't think so. You look like you have that sort of body that could never get fat. Not like me…I have to watch what I eat and make sure I work out a lot. I was kind of chubby as a kid." He paused for a moment, still holding the package of lunch meat, and glanced up at his friend. "That brings me to something though…"

Rorschach's hand slowed as he reached for a slice of bread, but he did not look up.

"I've been giving it some thought…" Dan felt his voice crack a little and he cleared his throat, trying to stifle any apparent nervousness. "I have this whole townhouse, just for me, it's a little ridiculous… and you're sort of hard up for cash right? Well…err…You could live here if you like…I uh…I won't charge you anything." Dan continued assembling his sandwich as he spoke, not daring to look up, trying to sound as matter of fact as possible. There was no audible response. Cautiously, Dan lifted his eyes from his lunch.

Rorschach was frozen, a slice of bread setting on his plate, his left hand holding a butter knife, and his right a jar of mayonnaise. The mask was rolled up to the nose, and Dan thought he caught the slightest twitch of his lips, as if he has said something to himself. Dan felt suddenly very warm. _Shit…now I've done it… _he cursed himself.

"Stay here…" The smaller vigilante replied, his tone slow and measured. "…with you?"

Dan nodded, shocked by what he was hearing, amazed that his idea was not met with immediate rejection. "We,...uh…We could be roommates. You could have the whole third floor if you want."

Finally, as if awakened from a trance, Rorschach shook his head and returned to preparing his sandwich. "No…Would not work…Identity would have to be compromised…Very generous offer though, Thank you Daniel."

Dan sighed. He knew the identity issue would be a problem, but had held out hope that maybe the offer of a free place to stay would finally be enough to break down the wall. "Figured you'd say that. Well…if things change, the offer is still there."

Rorschach replied with a stiff nod as he selected a tomato slice for his turkey sandwich. Minutes past in dead silence, only cut by the sound of Rorschach's noisy eating, or Dan refilling his glass of iced tea. The quiet was lead heavy. Dan began to fidget, his foot unconsciously tapping against the leg of his chair. It was not the fact that his partner had declined his offer that made it feel awkward, it was that at first he did not, that it seemed for a moment he was tempted by the idea. Feeling he had already tread on unstable ground, Dan decided to push his luck further.

"Do you have any family?" He asked candidly.

"No." Rorschach replied flatly.

Dan scratched his head. It was stupid question, he had already assumed the answer, but despite this clumsy inquiry, and knowing full well that it was time to stop with the probing, Dan continued.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Rorschach stopped eating and looked up. Dan braced himself for what he was sure would be an exceptionally vicious reply, but to his surprise he thought he caught a glimpse of something that almost resembled a half smile as his partner shook his head and returned to his lunch.

"You are trying very hard to make conversation Daniel." The masked man grunted before taking a bite of his sandwich. "And no. I have never been good with relationships…of any kind really." He finished the sandwich and lifted his glass of tea, pausing for a moment to observe how it shook in his grip, the ice cubes clinking together loudly. With a low grumble he took a long swallow and set it down quickly, his agitation becoming apparent.

Dan's expression softened. "Its only been a little over a week. You can't expect to be better yet, and last night probably didn't help any. Just try to be patient. Its not forever." Dan turned and leaned back, stretching to reach the counter. He grabbed a small plastic container and twisted it open, dumping two pills into his palm. "Here, this will help." He extended the drugs to his partner. Rorschach let out a hoarse sigh and took the painkillers, swallowing them with the last of his tea.

"Well,… its four in the afternoon, and we've just finished lunch. So I guess a late diner huh?" Dan stood and began to clear table. "I'll make some sort of pasta, that will be easy."

"Just finished eating lunch, and you're already thinking about dinner? Not surprising that you need to watch your weight." The masked man replied coolly.

"Hey! Now that's not nice! Just planning ahead…" Dan chuckled, setting the plates in the sink before turning back to face his partner. Rorschach was attempting to stand, bracing himself on the edge of the table, his half-masked face giving away an expression of obvious strain. Dan immediately rushed over and slid his arm around his friend's slim waist, steadying him on his feet.

"You don't look so good." He said softly, coaxing his partner to lean against him. "Those pills will kick in soon and you'll feel better." Rorschach managed a weak nod and accepted Dan's assistance to the living room couch.

"Tired of being like this. Everything hurts…Can't even breathe without feeling it. Frustrating." The small vigilante grumbled irritably as he settled back against the cushions.

Dan nodded sympathetically, taking a seat beside his friend on the couch. "I think last night really did you in. You just need to take it easy the next few days." He chewed his lower lip idly for a moment, considering his partner's condition before he spoke, a touch of nervousness creeping into his speech.

"Let me have a look at you. I don't like the way you're acting today, seems like you're in a lot of pain. I just want to see how things are healing up."

Rorschach appeared to shrink into himself, arms wrapped around his chest, one hand absently tugging at his tee-shirt, the other clutching his upper arm. His distress at the suggestion was palpable. Dan remembered the last time he has examined him, how uncomfortable he was with being touched, how his whole body trembled and shook. Rorschach reminded Dan of a stray cat he found as a child, and orange tiger he called 'Rusty'. He recalled how terrified the animal was when they took him to the veterinarian, all claws and panic. _Maybe I shouldn't push this…Everything is probably okay. _

He had nearly resigned to leaving Rorschach alone when to his surprise the masked man let out a long defeated sigh and began to pull off his white tee-shirt, revealing his pallid bruised skin underneath. Dan stood abruptly and rushed into the kitchen, an idea popping suddenly into his head. He felt terrible for the stress these moments caused Rorschach. The troubled vigilante's feeble psyche had been through too much already, Dan hated being the source of more trauma. He recalled visiting the doctor as a child and how the kind nurse there would offer him candy while the physician looked him over. It seemed like a silly juvenile idea, but Dan hoped that perhaps giving Rorschach something sweet might calm him down. He rummaged through the kitchen looking for some candy or other dessert he could bring his friend. _Its too bad all of Laurie's cookie's are gone. He loved those things. _Dan thought to himself with a smile. He finally settled on a Snickers bar he had stashed in the lower drawer.

Rorschach looked confused when Dan returned to the living room, candy in hand. He was shirtless, shivering slightly, hunched forward, his freckled arms wrapped tightly around his compact frame. Terrified. _Goddamn… You can look into the depths of Hell with out flinching, but threaten you with the slightest intimacy, and you fall like a house of cards. What has this world done to you… _Dan shook his head sadly as he sat down beside his partner.

"Here… Eat this, just try and relax." Dan peeled open the metallic wrapper and offered the candy to his friend. Rorschach stared curiously at the treat for a moment before accepting the offer. He took the first bite warily, as if it were some sort of trick, chewing it slowly. Dan couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Its not poisoned or anything." He replied, both amused and exasperated, a cynical grin spreading across his face. "Straighten up for me." Dan coaxed his partner's unwilling body into a less hunched position, placing one hand on his lower back and the other on his chest, over his sternum. Gently, he pressed with both hands, guiding the shoulders back until Rorschach was sitting up as straight as he could manage. He could feel the tension building in the tight little body under his palms, the sweat forming on the cold skin.

The bruising was still disturbingly prevalent over most of Rorschach's torso, now fading to sickly shades of green and yellow, but still blue and purple in a few areas. Dan felt a distinct chill at the sight of the long gash still grossly visible down the full length of his partner's abdomen. He blinked quickly and shook his head, a momentary image of the wound fresh and open flashing in his mind. He traced his fingers along the laceration, making sure that it did not appear infected. The corner of his mouth curved up at the sound of his partner's stifled sniffling sounds and the sight of his twitching belly. It occurred to him that he had never really heard Rorschach laugh. Dan couldn't help but feel a wave of boyish temptation to conjure laughter up out of his stoic partner via tickling, but decided that would be an unforgivable break of trust, not to mention risky for a man with broken ribs.

"How do I look Doc?" Rorschach said softly as he finished the candy bar, his usual sandpaper voice quavering ever so slightly. Dan smiled broadly. It was rare for his dismal partner to speak with any discernible sense of humor, and for him to do it under so stressful a circumstance was a simple miracle.

"You look okay…not great, but okay. Seems like you have some new bruising, you might have pulled or torn something last night. But I don't feel any badly protruding ribs or anything too disturbing." Dan replied, gently moving his hand along Rorschach's right side.

"AHHccckkkK!" Rorschach yelped in a strange, uncharacteristically high pitched voice and reflexively pulled away, clutching at a spot just under his right pectoral.

Dan jerked quickly backwards lifting both hands, palms up. "Sorry!" He gasped. "I didn't mean to hurt you…here, hang on just let me see…"

"Nnnggg.." Rorschach snarled and recoiled, still clutching the sore spot on his side. Dan slid closer. Despite feeling guilty for hurting his partner he now felt compelled to examine that spot, to make certain nothing felt lodged out of place. "Shhh…I'll be careful just…sit still…" He said soothingly and laid a hand on Rorschach's shoulder as the wiry vigilante attempted to squirm away, hissing and protesting. Dan was again reminded of the angry little ginger tom cat he had found as a boy. _If that cat were back and white it would've been perfect… _He thought to himself as he reached for his partner's wrist, attempting to pry his hand away from the tender spot.

"C'mon Ror…" Dan's patience waned as he pulled at the clenched hand, Rorschach still resisting with all he had. "I just want to make sure--"

The movement was lightening fast, the clever bony hand shot out, snatching up Dan's ring finger and wrenching it back as far as it would go without breaking. The two sat frozen there, Rorschach coiled against the arm of the sofa, one hand still on his side the other with Dan's finger in an oh too familiar hold, Dan wide eyed with disbelief. Even in his withered state Rorschach still had the reflexes of a viper, and a temper to match. With one tiny movement he could snap the knuckle, pop the bone clean out of the socket.

"You wouldn't…" Dan whispered incredulously, every wall he broken down in the recent days appearing to rise before him. The half-masked face was unreadable, the mouth set in a ridged line, the inky splotches drifting silently over vacant depressions where he knew eyes stared fiercely back. "Rorschach,…I didn't wanna hurt you. I'm just worried. That's all." By this point Dan knew he could probably pull his hand away and step back, but he didn't want too, he wanted Rorschach to release him, he wanted to see him back down on his own. The room was silent other then the rustic tick of an antique clock, measuring the moments as Dan felt distance between them expanding outward with every hollow wooden _tick._

"…It's just me…Daniel…your partner."

The smaller vigilante's dry lips parted slightly and Dan thought he caught the faintest trace of his own name. Rorschach's grip went slack and he slumped wearily against the arm of the couch, his breathing heavy and irregular. Dan watched him for a long time, not daring to move in any closer, for the first time all week sensing the old wall between them. For the first time all week he did not trust man the called his best friend not even a day prior. Then, as had so often been the case in these strange days, Rorschach did something that Dan did not expect.

"I'm sorry…Daniel…forgive me…" There it was again. The voice from the previous evening, the 'other man', the man that was not Rorschach. "Promised I'd never turn on you… Broken your trust already…very bad." The thin voice was faltered, weak, almost pleading. "Forgive me…Daniel."

Dan stared, slack jawed in disbelief at the rawness of the apology, the simplicity of the words, the blatant shame coating every tenuous syllable. Every trace of anger dissipated like fading smoke as Dan looked upon his partner, and he was reminded that this was Rorschach, and nothing was ever simple. Whatever abuses had been done to him in his bleak past had left him damaged in ways one could only begin to fathom. Dan reached out and laid a calm hand on the hard angular shoulder, rubbing the cold skin gently.

"Its okay, everything is okay. I forgive you."

The black and white face tilted up and Dan could feel the tension in the muscles beneath his palm subsiding.

"You know…You remind me of a stray cat I once took in."

"A cat?"

"Yeah, skinny little ginger tom cat. We called him Rusty. He was all claws, that little thing. My Mom and Dad hated him." Dan chuckled nostalgically. "He freaked out so bad when we took him to the vet. He was a pretty nasty little cat. I was the only person he ever really let pet him, and he used to sleep on the corner of my bed, all curled up. He'd hiss at my parents if they came in."

"What happened to Rusty?" Rorschach whispered his raspy voice marked with genuine curiosity.

Dan paused, opening his mouth to speak before the words caught in his throat, bitter and sad. He turned his eyes to his friend, taking in the sight of the strained, broken vigilante before replying quietly;

"He ran away one night."

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Sorry that this chapter is kinda fluffly compared to the last ones. The guys need a little down time between dramatic happenings. Something big can't happen everyday. Poor Ror would never get better. Anyhow thank you so much for your reviews and support. :D I have decided that I will definity do at least one more Ror-centric chapter before the end since everyone seemed to like that last one, and i liked writing it! Also,... just a little narcissistic request...If any of you readers are artists and would like to do some fanart for this fic, I would be delighted beyond all reason. I do so love drawings. :D

--Jackie


	13. Chapter 12

The local New York city news station droned over the radio in Dan's basement as he went about his workout routine. It was mid afternoon on Wednesday, October fifteenth 1975, and so far, other then the usual rumblings about the Soviets, it is was an unusually peaceful day in the news. Rorschach sat perched on a desk chair near Dan's work bench, dressed in the usual loose cotton pajama pants and a white tee-shirt, eating dry peanut butter cereal out of a plastic cup, and idly swiveling the chair back and forth. Dan watched him as he absently counted off repetitions of chin-ups, and smiled fondly. It was always a small miracle to see him behaving so naturally and one Dan knew only he was ever allowed to observe. It was a rare glimpse of the what was under all the fury and vengeance, of the delicate, child-like individual beneath.

_Just a lost little kid… _Dan thought to himself pensively.

It was not the fist time Rorschach had reminded Dan of a boy, and it made perfect sense. People who were traumatized at an early age often had a difficult time reconciling the transition into adulthood. Dan knew nothing about his partner's past, but he didn't need too. The other vigilante gave him enough clues to fabricate the outline of a heartrending history of abuse and neglect. Rorschach's almost obsessive desire to punish anyone who would hurt children, his own lack of family, his fear of human contact, and disgust towards anything sexual, it all painted a very grim picture. Dan was not sure the extent of what had been done to his friend in his vulnerable early years, but he knew that it had to have been severe, it took uncommon circumstances to create a man that would become 'Rorschach.'

Dan was pleased that his partner appeared to be in better spirits then the previous day. After the flair up over the examination, although no longer displaying any visible malice, he had become disparagingly withdrawn. Dan couldn't quite tell if he was ashamed or just not feeling well, but whatever the reason, Rorschach spent the remainder of the day and subsequent night in bed. He was relieved when he knocked on the guest room door the following morning and was answered with a raspy "Come in Daniel." followed by a request for pancakes.

Dan pulled his chin up to the bar for the hundredth time, exhaled deeply, and dropped to the floor. He shook out his taut arms and reached for a towel, briskly rubbing it across his face, then tossing it over his shoulder. He then proceeded to his work bench and retrieved his water bottle, taking a long swallow of the blissfully cold liquid, before turning to his partner who was still crunching loudly on cereal.

"Finished exercising for today Daniel?" The masked man inquired, placing a thin bare foot on the cement floor to halt the swiveling chair.

"Yeah, pretty much. I'm just going to take a light jog on the treadmill to cool down." Dan replied, taking another swig from his water bottle. He turned lazily, and proceeded towards the machine, tossing aside the towel.

"Daniel…?"

"hmm?" Dan looked over his shoulder as he stepped onto the rubber surface of the treadmill.

"You,…You are not still angry, about yesterday?"

Dan turned on his heel and walked back to where his partner sat, kneeling down so that he was at eye level with him, or least where he assumed eye level would be under the drifting black splotches.

"Ror, I was never angry in the first place. Sad, worried, a little freaked out, but not angry." He laid a hand reassuringly on smaller man's shoulder. "I know this has been hard for you. Weeks ago if someone had told me that you would let me pick you up and carry you without a fight, that you would sit on my roof and have a drink with me, that you would allow me to see you dressed like this even, I would not have believed them. For as far as we've come these past few days, one slip up is hardly anything to fuss about."

Rorschach looked away, gnawing on his lower lip, and Dan sensed that hearing those things made him feel self conscious about the fact that all of it did actually occur.

"Its alright buddy. Don't worry about it okay? All of this stays here."

Rorschach gave a stiff nod, and then suddenly straightened, he attention caught by something else.

"What is i--" Dan started.

"_Shhhh!!_" Rorschach hissed.

"_So Senator Keene, why do you think that Vigilantism should be outlawed in this country? Isn't it every American's right to protect what they hold dear?"_

"_Yes, of course it is, and they can. The can enroll in the police academy or join the military. Vigilante justice is not justice at all. These 'Masked Heroes' as they call themselves, bend the rules however they like and are more often then not criminals themselves. They do not adhere to proper laws and conduct, and completely disregard the American system of justice. A system where all people have rights, and are innocent until proven guilty."_

"_But most of these Vigilantes simply bring in wanted criminals, leaving them for the police. Take 'Nite Owl' for instance, Even the police admit he's assisted in hundreds of arrests and has never once committed a documented act of extreme violence against criminals."_

" '_Nite Owl' , ha ha ha…Every interviewer I've spoken to brings up this 'Nite Owl' character, as some sort of shining example of a real life comic book super hero. You know, I laugh every time. The skeleton in that man's closet is as plain as day! Has everyone failed to notice his sidekick?" _

"_You are referring to 'Rorschach'?"_

"_Of course that's who I'm referring to! That man is a dangerous, unstable, murdering sociopath who should be arrested and imprisoned immediately. I cannot fathom how there are still people in this country that refer to him as a Hero, or who are able to excuse 'Nite Owl' despite his obvious tolerance of such behavior. Does anyone honestly believe 'Nite Owl' has clean hands when he keeps company with a deranged individual like 'Rorschach' ? I certainly don't, and I don't think America does either."_

"_Hmm, yes it does appear that way. Collected data is showing a growing public mistrust of 'Masked Heroes'."_

"_And that is exactly why it is so important that the public gets out to vote this November.---"_

Dan scowled and turned off the radio.

"It'll never go through, its just ridiculous. What's next? are they going to out law 'citizen's arrests' ? Give me a break. That guy is full of shit." Dan cursed and threw his head back, draining the last of the water from his plastic sports bottle.

"Hurm…"

Dan looked to his friend. "What, you think that bill might actually pass?"

"Don't know." Rorschach replied quietly.

"I dunno Ror, I don't think--"

"What if it did? What would you do Daniel?" Rorschach cut him off abruptly.

There was an edge to the masked man's gravely words, a fierce challenge, but something else too. In the statement there was the very slightest hint of trepidation, of worry. Dan opened his mouth quickly to respond, but no words came out. His brows furrowed and he paused, realizing that he did not have an answer.

Rorschach's fluid black and white face remained fixed on him, the mask still rolled up to the nose, the dry lips offering up no expression, the ruff, whiskered jaw set.

"I- I don't know…I don't know what I would do. I mean,…It seems ludicrous to just turn my back on all this, everything we've worked so hard for… but if that bill went though, continuing would mean making 'Nite Owl' a wanted man…a criminal…it's a tough call." Dan stammered, and scratched his head as was often his habit when he was nervous. The air in his basement felt suddenly too dank and humid, too thick with the smell the underground tunnels, of mold and decay.

"Why?…What would you do?" Immediately, Dan wished he had not asked the question. He didn't want to hear the answer for he already guessed it, and it filled him with dread.

"Would never quit… Never. Let them hunt me down…let them all come…Criminals and Police…I am what I am. I will not bend for their laws." Each ominous word was dripping with contempt, each ragged syllable could have been etched in stone. Dan's skin crawled. Here was a man who would go to his grave for their 'profession', who nearly did, but he did not want to picture it. Rorschach alone on the New York City streets. Rorschach hunted down. Rorschach in prison. Dan blinked back the creeping imagery_. It hasn't even happened yet…It probably won't…Don't think about it…_

"Rorschach…Don't worry about it now. There's no law yet. No use getting worked up about something that hasn't happened." Dan replied, trying to sound logical, desperate to change the subject.

"…You'd quit…" The smaller vigilant whispered slowly, tilting his head forward just slightly, his tone faintly stunned, as if he had just come upon the realization.

"I,-- I said I don't--" Dan started.

"You'd quit." Rorschach murmured in a voice so faint it could have been drowned out by the sound of a rat skittering across the derelict train tracks. He turned his face away from Dan, nodding a bit as he did, and pulled the mask back over his chin.

***

The rest of the evening past in tense silence. Dan tried repeatedly to coax his partner into some sort of social interaction, but Rorschach, although remaining reasonably polite, was entirely uncooperative. He spent the remainder of the afternoon curled on the couch, scribbling in a small yellow note pad, filling page upon page with unknown thoughts and imagery. Repeatedly Dan would listen to many long minutes of pen scratching on paper, finally finished off with the swift crinkling flip of a page, followed by still more scrawling. _What the Hell is he writing about?_ Dan wondered to himself as he stood over the sink washing the dishes from dinner. _He has nothing to say to me, but he's sure writing a Goddamned novel over there…_

Rinsing the final plate, Dan glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was seven, and outside the window the very last traces of the sunset were fading. Seeing as Rorschach was offering him nothing in the way of interesting company, he made up his mind to go out patrolling.

"Hey, Rorschach." Dan walked into the living room, still toweling off his wet hands.

The smaller vigilante responded by glancing up from his tablet and setting the pen neatly on the coffee table beside the sofa.

"I'm going out on patrol tonight. Do you need anything before I leave?"

"No. Thank you Daniel." The stilted politeness of the response made Dan's heart sink a little. Rorschach was back to his old self; remote, detached, and unwaveringly self-reliant. The rare moments observed during the past days where the two of them had been like normal friends were now crystallized in his memory, brief and delicate. It almost embarrassed Dan to admit to himself how good it felt to sense a connection with Rorschach, to feel in a real tangible way for once their relationship meant more then just business. With every passing minute Dan worried that it had again disappeared, devoured by ink and latex and imagined entities.

"Staying down here tonight?"

"Yes…Did not eat much at dinner, I may be hungry later."

"Alright. There are leftovers in the fridge. You can heat them up you like, just remember to turn the gas off when you are done. I'll be back in the morning." Dan was aware of the flatness in his tone, the friendly familiarity which had characterized his every word in previous days was all but gone. It seemed he had run out of ways to pry open his partner's shell, and grown tired of trying. Rorschach acknowledged him with a wordless nod before returning to the notepad, and with that farewell Dan turned and disappeared down the stairs to the 'Owl's Nest', shutting the door quietly behind him.

***

The night was hazy and moist and the sky threatened rain. Dan decided to take his patrol to Queens that evening, scouring the streets of Flushing, catching a crack dealer behind a noisy pub, and a pimp on a nearby corner. His arrests were quick and deliberate. No flourishes, no drama. He left them tied to a railing outside the police station, both had enough drugs on them to form a sound conviction. Normally he liked to wait, even exchange a few words with the officers before departing, but not tonight. He went about the motions of his patrol as if on auto pilot. He missed having Rorschach with him, he had grown so used to being able to set up their actions as a team. The bruise on his belly was still deep purple and very tender beneath his costume, a painful reminder of the last night he had dared go out on patrol alone.

From Flushing Queens he flew south to Canarsie Brooklyn, sweeping the slick misty sidewalks in silence. Dan had not planned out his night as he usually did, and it consequently felt pointless and haphazard. The crimes he interrupted were small and petty, the criminals more desperate and pitiful then anything else. After Canarsie he moved on to Brighton Beach, where he broke up a fight outside a strip club. He managed to get the situation under control, but more by his presence alone then any force of will. The drunken patrons apparently found the sight of a man in an owl suit so amusing that whatever they had been fighting over became quickly irrelevant. An intoxicated young blond in a tube top and shredded, stonewashed, bell-bottom jeans approached him with a snort of laughter and offered to buy him a drink. She was pretty with bright natural smile, despite having an air of tacky promiscuity that Dan tended to find off-putting.

"Now I can tell my kids I seen one of you guys before you go extinct." She giggled, leaning forward, drunkenly pressing her large soft breasts against Dan's armored chest. "Can I have a peek under those goggles? You look cute." She teased, reaching playfully towards his eyes. His hand snapped up reflexively and caught her wrist, holding it firmly away from his face.

"I'm sorry." He said sternly and stepped away from the pouting woman.

"Aw, C'mon Nite Owl. Have a little fun with me. You guys aren't going to be around much longer, fill a little girl's fantasy why don't ya?" She whined patronizingly. "I think you fellas are adorable, a little piece of Americana ya know? And what with all the talk on the news about ya all being outlawed soon… C'mon! What do say… _Rescue me_." She breathed the last word with an air of haughty sexuality that Dan knew Rorschach would find repulsive.

"I wouldn't count on us 'going extinct'... That bill hasn't passed yet…Don't believe everything you hear on the news." Dan replied coolly, as he turned away from the jeering pub clientele.

"I bid you all good night." He whispered solemnly and rounded a corner, the last of his cloak fluttering out of view.

***

It was a little after three in the morning when Dan found himself back home in his basement, peeling off his costume as though he were shedding the last traces of a bad dream. His patrol left him feeling worse then he had before he left, bitter and entirely alone. The night had betrayed him, denying him its electricity, that sweet intoxicating rush only it could deliver. _Perhaps the writing is on the wall…maybe our time is coming to an end… _Dan thought to himself as he quietly ascended the stairs, wrapping his heavy terrycloth robe around his tired body.

A few steps shy of the door leading into the kitchen Dan froze mid stride. He could hear the very faintest sound of talking from behind the door, as if there were two people engaged in a hushed conversation. His first impulse was panic, but within a split second the realization dawned on him; there was only one voice. Curiosity got the best of Dan in spite of an accompanying sensation of guilt over his voyeurism, and he leaned forward silently as he could, pressing his ear against the wood of the door.

"…don't leave me…don't leave me…don't leave me…don't leave me…" The muffled voice was cracked and shuddering, accompanied by a rhythmic creaking, as if something were being rocked back and forth.

Then came a harsh, strangled fit of crying that sounded like a dry, bitter cough, followed by a sniffling whimper. Dan could feel sweat accumulating in his balled fists. This was not something he was meant to overhear.

The same voice changed tone entirely and replied in a familiar ice cold, gravely snarl; "He will quit, knew this from the beginning. But not you _Walter_,… you're so stupid…so nauseatingly hopeful… Now put the skin back on your head and end this disgrace!"

From behind the door Dan was holding his breath, his heart slamming into his ribs with such force he feared the very sound of its beat might give him away. _Walter… _The name hung in his thoughts like the last resonance of a sound in a silent room.

"I--I can't." The fainter voice choked between constrained shaky sobs. "I can't do this any more…I can't…I, I need… I need…"

"DON'T…say it…" The fiercer tone snapped back viciously before it very quickly dissolved into another fit of ragged sobbing.

"Skin on head…now…" The voice threatened in a low growl.

"…I'm Tired…everything hurts…can't do this…I need…I---"

"NOW."

Dan drew back from the door, his body felt entirely numb, his mind still trying to wrap itself around what he had just heard. He teetered on the edge of the stair, half of him wanting to burst into the kitchen and rescue this 'Walter' from Rorschach, the other half still not entirely sure what had just transpired, but knowing full well he was not meant to hear it. Slowly he backed down the stairs. Once at the bottom he paused for a moment and then walked back up, this time very loudly, purposely trying to announce his return. His hand hesitated as he reached for the door knob, a surge of apprehensive adrenaline coursing through his veins. _You have to go in there. He needs you._

"Rorschach! You're still awake? What's wrong buddy? Can't sleep?" Dan could kick himself for his poor depiction of bogus surprise, but thankfully Rorschach appeared to buy it. He was sitting at the table, black hooded sweatshirt wrapped around himself tightly, a half eaten plate of leftover pasta setting off to the side, apparently discarded.

"Not as hungry as you thought?" Dan picked up the plate and scraped the cold food into the trash before setting it in the sink to be washed later.

Rorschach shook his head. Dan was chewing his lower lip, fighting every urge to come out and admit to what he had heard.

"How about some tea? Maybe that will help you sleep." He suggested brightly.

Rorschach nodded in response, still not saying anything.

Dan plopped the kettle on the burner and switched on the gas, the flame producing a soft hiss that sounded strangely comforting in the chill silence. He sat next to his partner at the table as he waited for the water to boil.

"I had a great night Ror. Stopped a burglary, and broke up a pretty bad gang fight. It would've been better if you were out with me, but it was a good time. Not too much longer though, just another few weeks." He smiled, hoping beyond all logic that his partner would buy the lie and find some security in his words.

"That's good…wish I was there too." Rorschach replied softly.

"You will be soon. Don't worry. Nite Owl and Rorschach will be back before crime knows what hit it." He wrapped arm around his friend in a boyish hug, giving him a light shake. The masked man said nothing in reply, but Dan noticed his posture lift just slightly. Feeling a little better, and hearing the kettle begin to squeal, he stood to retrieve two mugs, along milk, sugar and his tins of tea bags.

Dan's eyes fell heavily on the small quiet vigilante across from him as he prepared the tea, watching him slowly lift the mask to the bridge of his nose, wondering more then ever what the upper half of the face looked like. What color were the eyes under the latex? Eyes that were almost certainly exhausted, rimmed with red, and still blinking back tears_. Just a lost little kid…Human, like the rest of us…_

Dan extended a steaming mug of tea to his partner's shaking hand with a gentle smile.

"Here you are…Rorschach."

He did not have the courage to say the name he so desperately wanted to, the name he knew needed to be said. The name of a man he wanted, more then anyone else in his city, to rescue.

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Author's Notes: Okay! First I want to mention something I noticed shortly after posting the last chapter. I was reading over some watchmen fics on here and came across the story: _My Disgruntled Fox_ by Kazuman21. Very cute story btw, you should all check it out. :) In it there is a very similar story to the 'Rusty the cat' bit in my fic, and since MDF was written first i couldn't help but feel terrible. I did not have any intentions of ripping off your cat story kazuman21! I mean this sincerely. It really is a coincidence. I got the idea from a comment left on my fic by Lanari. Anyhow, I just felt like I had to mention that because plagiarism is a terrible thing, and I didn't want anyone to think I purposely ripped off the cat story.

In other news I have a Live Journal page now too. :D I draw as well as write, and i put some artwork for this fic up on there. (but I'd still love to see some art from you guys!!! ;) anyway I am Jackiemei on LJ. Jackiemay was sadly taken... If you have LJ accounts too I'd love to make some friends over there. XD

ALSO this was a veeery important chapter in terms of what's to come. I recently outlined the entire rest of this fic, so my updates might becoming a tiny bit faster then before...(but not too much hahaha I'm a slow writer.) Some very fun chaps to come. Stay tuned.

--Jackie


	14. Chapter 13

Author's note: This chapter contains an abstract reference to an incident that could raise the rating of this fic to M. Its fairly vague so I'm keeping this at T, but I just wanted to warn you guys.

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Daniel Dreiberg stood staring blankly at the produce section of a busy Manhattan grocery store. He looked down at his basket and the few miscellaneous vegetables within. He could not for the life of him remember what he was shopping for. All he could think of was the night before, of a person named Walter, a person that was technically staying with him at the moment. He shook his head as if he could somehow manage to rattle himself back into reality. _Marinated chicken tonight…with steamed broccoli and carrots…and baked potatoes…tomorrow, a steak stir fry…still need to get the snow peas…Also need to pick up more antibiotic cream…and some decongestant…he's wheezing again. _Dan went over the items in his head, cursing himself for not writing it all down before he left.

He wandered about the store in a distracted daze, reminding himself over and over again what he needed to buy. His thoughts were constantly interrupted by a replay of what he heard through the kitchen door the night before, of this Walter, sobbing uncontrollably, repeating again and again; "Don't leave me." The echo of the weak, raspy, pleading voice reverberated in his consciousness, and Dan wondered more then ever about the fragile mental state of his partner. _What should I do? He's my friend…and he's sick. I can't pretend he's not…what I heard last night, that's not normal…_

He filled his basket with a variety of healthy foods, medicines, and vitamins, all with the singular goal of returning Rorschach to better health, but despite the careful attention, Dan still felt as though he was failing his partner. If this were anyone but Rorschach the answer would be simple; take him to see a psychotherapist, talk to him, and be there for him. Unfortunately this was Rorschach and nothing was ever simple. A doctor was out of the question, and even talking was difficult. Dan couldn't begin to think of how he could reach out to this 'Walter' as long as Rorschach was still there. He sighed and dropped a box of peanut butter Cap'n Crunch in his basket, with a faint smile. _He loves this stuff…_ He felt a rising heat in his eyes, the image of his partner munching on the cereal out of a little plastic cup emerging painfully in his consciousness. _Walter, that's who that person is…that innocent little shadow underneath Rorschach…and what am I doing? What good am I? How dare I call myself a hero or even a friend…_

He proceeded to the checkout, head hung low, feeling all but crushed under the weight of his own guilt. One by one he set the items on the conveyor, wishing somewhere amongst all the physical remedies he'd find a way to fix what really needed fixed, a way to somehow mend a thing he was not permitted to touch.

***

Rorschach was quiet that evening, but not as unresponsive has he had been the previous day. Dan was pleased that he seemed to be desiring company as well, sitting at the kitchen table while he cooked diner.

"How are you feeling today Rorschach?" Dan asked candidly as he sliced the vegetables.

"A little better then yesterday. Ribs still hurt a lot, shoulder is acting up too. The cut on my stomach is feeling a lot better though, still sore, but does not feel as though it could tear open anymore." The smaller vigilante replied quietly.

Dan couldn't keep from wincing at the description. The thought of what it would feel like to have your belly tear open sent chills down his spine. He tossed the broccoli and carrots into the steamer basket and closed the lid tightly before turning to look at his partner who was sitting so sedately at the table, sketching something in his notepad.

"That's good…Umm…How are you otherwise?" Dan stammered a little, knowing that the question was out of line in terms of acceptable things to ask Rorschach.

"Otherwise?"

"Yeah…you know…Are you alright? You've seemed…I don't know,…How do I put it…sort of depressed." Dan was fidgeting with his collar, a dead giveaway that he was nervous. He wished he knew a better way to phrase the question. Asking if Rorschach was depressed seemed ridiculous, like asking if New York had homeless people. His partner considered him for a long while, fluid patches of black sliding silently over the contours of the thin face.

"You are concerned?" he said finally, his voice monotone and controlled.

"Well, yeah!…I'm your friend right? If there is something wrong I want to help." Dan was aware of slight hint of desperation in his tone but he didn't care, if anything he wanted Rorschach to hear it, he wanted Walter to hear it.

"No need to trouble yourself Daniel. You are doing enough for me already." The smaller man said slowly, just above a whisper, looking away from Dan's pleading eyes down to a little doodle of the saltshaker on the table that he had drawn moments ago.

"_Trouble myself?_ I'm your partner! Your _friend! _I know you might not understand what that entails, but I trouble myself with these things whether you like it or not, its not just something that can be turned off. I'd at least feel better if you'd open up a little more. It always seems like I'm in the dark with you. Why can't you just talk to me?!" Dan's face grew hot, his fists were clenched, he was nearly yelling, but under the frustration he could not help himself. He was inches from spilling the truth about the night before, about everything he had heard, and it took every fiber of self control to hold it back.

"Daniel please…you are doing enough for me. More then I deserve."

"Ror--" Dan's voice cracked, and his vision blurred. There it was again, that slight change in tone, the hint of desolation, innocence, and despair. Dan just stared at his partner, his lips parted, waiting for a rebuttal that would not come. Rorschach did not turn to face him, but instead began to draw the pepper shaker. _Look at me!…I know you're hiding… _Daniel thought to himself bitterly.

"Daniel…should turn down the heat on vegetables…"

Dan spun around to see copious amounts of steam being emitted from the basket on the stove.

"Yeah…" He sighed and nodded, resuming his work preparing the meal, knowing that this conversation, at least for the time being, was over.

***

In spite of his frustration, Dan did not give up on trying to elicit conversation from his ever difficult partner throughout the evening. Over dinner he chatted idly about an article he had read recently about birds and dinosaurs. He knew full well Rorschach could probably care less about it, but was pleased that he at least humored him with the occasional 'hurm.'

By nine o'clock they had finished dinner and were both sitting at the kitchen table, Dan attempting to teach his partner how to play 'crazy eights', the only good two player card game he could think of. Rorschach seemed impatient with the game, repeatedly forgetting the rules moments after Dan explained them.

"Do you want to play something else?" Dan finally suggested, growing tired of going over the same instructions again and again.

"Tired, can't focus. I'm sorry Daniel." Rorschach replied, rubbing his forehead.

"Don't worry about it. Want something to drink? Soda? Water?"

"A coke, thank you…"

"Sure, I'm going to give you some decongestant too. You're wheezing again." Dan replied as he cracked open an cold bottle of soda and poured it into a glass of ice. He slid the drink across the table to his partner following it with a small shot glass of liquid medicine. The masked vigilante stared at the drug reluctantly.

"Just swallow it quickly." Said Dan with an exasperated sigh, worrying that getting the ornery little man to take the decongestant was going to turn into an ordeal.

Grudgingly, Rorschach tossed his head back and swallowed the medicine, his nose wrinkled in disgust as he set the shot glass back on the table. He chased it with the coke, draining half the glass before coming up for air. Dan laughed and shook his head.

"I know, I know. It tastes awful. I remember fighting my mom as kid when she'd try to make me take the stuff."

"Hurm…But she was a good mother?"

Dan was caught off guard. It was strange question, especially coming from Rorschach.

"Yeah,…She was a wonderful Mother. I miss her everyday. My dad was always a little distant, but not her. She was there for me, no matter what I wanted to do with myself. Its hard to believe she's been gone five years already, and Dad seven now. Its weird, never thought I'd loose both parents so early in life."

"You didn't like your father?"

"I liked him well enough... He was just hard to get close to, and he never seemed to approve of anything I did. He was a lot older then Mom too…I think he was already 45 when I was born. In some ways he seemed like the type who never really wanted kids. Still though, he set me up for life. I'll never need to worry about money on account of him. Its his cash that paid for Archie, this townhouse, all the gadgets and stuff downstairs."

Rorschach nodded and lifted his glass to his lips.

"What about you? Your parents gone too right?" Dan asked the question innocently enough, but as soon as it came out he knew he should not have brought it up. He had a feeling there was very little if anything in Rorschach's childhood he was comfortable talking about.

"My mother has been dead for many years. I do not know where my father is or if he is still alive." The smaller man replied very quietly.

Dan was shocked by the honesty and lack of irritation at the question. He had not expected an answer at all. Encouraged, and cautiously hoping his partner would talk more, Dan pried deeper.

"It was really hard, loosing my mother at twenty-five…How old were you?"

"I was sixteen."

"Damn…just a kid. Must have been terrible."

"Not really."

Rorschach lifted the glass to his lips again and drained the last of the soda before setting it down carefully. Dan studied him with concern, his suspicions about his partner's childhood confirmed further. _What sort of mother is so terrible that her sixteen year old son would not mourn her passing…and its not as if he's entirely insensitive…I know better then to assume that now. _Dan thought to himself.

"I'm tired Daniel. I think I should sleep now." The masked vigilante said as slowly rose from his seat, leaning heavily on the table. He paused for a moment, looking indecisive, before finally asking in a soft raspy voice tinged with shame;

"Can you help me get up stairs?…My leg is hurting me, don't want to trip."

"Of course Ror." Dan smiled gently and slid an arm around his partner's narrow waist, pulling the slim body against his own. "Whatever you need, don't be afraid to ask…ever."

Dan helped is partner up to his room, the smaller man hanging on to him as they climbed the stairs. In that brief moment Dan found himself noticing, that in spite of all the obvious shame Rorschach exhibited when accepting assistance, how very tightly his thin hands clung on.

***

Dan spent the rest of the night in his workshop. He found it difficult to even consider sleeping before two or three in the morning, his usual patrol had made him so accustomed to late nights. He tinkered with various gadgets, cleaned the Owl Ship interior, and organized his tools before finally feeling tired enough to sleep around two-thirty in the morning. He went about his usual bedtime rounds, making sure all the doors were locked and the lights were shut off. Satisfied, he ascended the stairs to the second floor and proceeded to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

The tooth brush he had bought for his partner was setting neatly off to the side of the sink on a folded washcloth. Dan could not help but notice, in spite of an over all negligence when it came to hygiene, Rorschach still took decent care of his teeth. _At least he has that much common sense…A sugar junkie like him would have lost all his teeth a long time ago if he didn't keep them clean. _He thought to himself with a chuckle.

After finishing up in the bathroom Dan crept down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake his partner as he padded across the creaky hardwood floor. A rustling sound caught his attention as he past the door, causing him to freeze mid stride. _When did I turn into such a snoop? _He wondered as stood, stark still, listening. He sighed and relaxed. _This is ridiculous…leave him alone. _He took another step down the hall. Again, he was taken by a noise from behind the guestroom door, this time it sounded vocal. His knees locked and he stood motionless, waiting. The memories from the previous night were still too fresh in his mind, fueling his curiosity and concern.

In the dead silence of the of the hallway Dan could hear a low moaning coming from the room. At first it was soft and indecipherable but eventually he was able to make out a few words.

"No…Don't touch me…no…please…no…"

_A nightmare…_ Dan thought and bit down on his lip. _People have nightmares…Just leave him alone._ He told himself rationally. He willed himself to pass the guestroom door and proceed to the end of the hallway, to his own room. As he turned the knob he was abruptly startled by a sudden and alarming hoarse scream from the direction of the guestroom. Instantly, all of Dan's apprehensions crumbled and in a single heartbeat he was Nite Owl, the sound of the cry awakening an almost primal urge to react. In seconds he was at the door, abandoning all concern for his friend's privacy and entering without so much as a moments hesitation. Cardinal rule of fighting on a team; when you hear your partner scream you act first, ask questions later.

Rorschach was in bed, back arched off the mattress, head thrown back, mask pulled up to the nose revealing clenched teeth, his white knuckled hands clawing at the sheets around him. Dan stood agape watching his partner writhe as if he were bound and being tortured.

"NO! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" He screeched.

Dan advanced slowly, defying better reason. He could feel his throat tighten at the sight of his partner's twisted form, silhouetted dark and terrifying against the blue light spilling in from window behind him.

"Rorschach! Wake up! You're going to hurt yourself! Wake up!" he exclaimed frantically as he approached his friend. "You can't be squirming around like that in your condition."

The small vigilante stopped thrashing and instead laid frozen on his back, every muscle strung taut, arms at his sides, fingers still tightly tangled in the sheets, his breath coming quickly and erratically, his bruised chest heaving, his head thrown to the side, lips parted and softly whispering;

"No, no, no, Mother…come back…Mother…who is this man?...no....leave me alone..."

Dan stared in horror. _This isn't just a nightmare. This is a memory. _Without pausing to consider the consequences he reached out to touch the bone white trembling shoulder.

"Walter…wake up." He said softly, the name sounding strange and forbidden on his lips. He laid a cool hand on the freckled skin.

Rorschach jumped forward like a coiled spring suddenly released, surging at Daniel with an almost inhuman quickness. Shock ran though Dan and he stumbled, falling hard onto his back, the other man poised on top of him like a cat. Ice cold hands wrapped around his throat, as he opened his eyes to see his partner's half-masked face bearing down on him, lips curled back in a hideous snarl like that of a rabid animal.

"I'll kill you…Finally…kill you…you'll never touch me again…" Rorschach hissed through his teeth, hands closing around Dan's windpipe.

"R-Rorschach!! It's ME!" Dan managed to cough, trying to pry the clawing fingers away from his neck. Fueled by pure adrenaline, Rorschach was surprisingly strong in spite of his condition, but Dan was still stronger. He managed to push himself forward, tear the clenched hands away from his throat, and throw the smaller man back a few feet, putting some distance between them.

"Rorschach! Its Daniel!" He gasped, and pulled his partner into a tight embrace, pinning his arms against his chest to keep him at bay. "It's Daniel…" He whispered, gently rubbing his partner's back, still trying to hold him firmly enough that he would not be able to break free, but careful not to hurt him.

"Daniel…"

"Yes. Its just me…your partner."

"Daniel…"

Dan felt the latex face press into the space between his shoulder and jaw, and the taut body went slack, the last traces of fury melting away in his arms like snow tracked inside after a storm.

"…Its alright…" Dan breathed, running his hand along the prominent spine.

"I'm sorry Daniel…This is…shameful…" Rorschach managed a hoarse whisper.

"Shh…Just relax, its over."

The two men sat like that in silence for many long minutes, Rorschach's face buried into Dan's clavicle, Dan wondering what unspeakable thing had brought about the violent nightmare.

"Why did you come in?" The masked man inquired eventually.

"I heard you screaming, I couldn't just ignore something like that."

"hurm…I suppose it would keep you awake…"

Dan chuckled and released his tight hold on his friend so that the two of them where at arms length, his hand resting on Rorschach's shoulder.

"Its like I told you earlier today; I'm your friend. I trouble myself with these things whether you like it or not."

Rorschach nodded and glanced away shamefully. "Did I say anything?"

"A few things…" Dan replied gently. "I'm here if you want to talk about it…but you don't have to. Just know that I'm here, alight?"

The smaller man nodded again and muttered softly;

"Just old ghosts…No need to go digging up graves."

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Author's Note: Yet another 'disturbed Rorschach' chapter. Don't worry, he's reasonably stable in the next one. Anyhow I hope you are all still enjoying the story. I have it basically mapped out. It's going to be 20 chapters, not including 1 more 'Ror interlude' and an Epilogue. Thanks for those of you that have checked out the art on my LJ page, there is a little more up now. Here is the link:

http: // jackiemei . live journal . com / (I added spaces because this site does not allow you to post links.) :P


	15. Chapter 14

The October air seemed remarkably fresh for New York City, as if it were cleansed by the slight, but noticeable chill of Autumn. The sky was the deepest azure blue, streaked with a few high wispy clouds, and the occasional jet trail. The afternoon sunlight glittered dazzlingly off the silver needle of the Chrysler Building, which was stunningly visible form Dan's rooftop and all and all it was a perfect fall day in Manhattan.

Rorschach was stretched lazily over a cedar lawn chair, masked face focused on the blue abyss above him, his hand holding an icy bottle of Coca-Cola. Daniel was a few feet away, dressed in his workout clothes, immersed in a series of push-ups. He had taken his exercise routine outside that day, the sunshine beckoning him to savor it, not to mention he felt his partner could stand to get out of the house. He had been cooped up for the last two days and Dan wondered if perhaps claustrophobia had been partially to blame for his recent 'bouts of madness'.

Dan managed to lift his head as pushed himself up off the workout mat for the forty-second time. He cracked a grin at the sight of his partner reclining peacefully like a sunbather, so relaxed it was as if his thin frame was melting into the chair.

"You look comfy." He snickered.

"Feels good to be outside." Rorschach replied simply, slipping the straw into his mouth.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Dan asked, for the sake of conversation if anything else.

"Doctor Manhattan."

Dan reached his fiftieth push-up and decided it was plenty, relaxing into a seated position on the mat.

"Manhattan? Why?"

"No reason really. The sky is blue. Made me think of him."

Dan laughed openly. "Well that is true, Doctor Manhattan is very blue."

Rorschach slid his hand under his tee-shirt and traced the perfectly sealed, but still tender line across his abdomen. Dan's expression softened. He had told his partner that it was Doctor Manhattan who sealed the wounds, but they had yet to discuss any details of the event.

"Why didn't he fix me better then this?" There was no bitterness in the raspy voice, if anything it was touched with a perplexed wonder.

It was a valid question. Dan had been so grateful to the blue, god-like, superhero for saving his friend's life that he had never really stopped to wonder; _Why didn't he do more for Rorschach? _Dan paused, trying to think of a response. His partner would most certainly be dead had it not been for Manhattan, so it felt wrong to criticize him, but once he gave it some thought, it was strange.

"I don't know Ror… He did enough to save you though. At least there is that."

"Yes, he did enough to save me. No more." Rorschach was quiet for a moment before continuing. "Wonder if attempts to rebuild my body would have resulted in me becoming something like him…If that is the case, can see why he did not attempt it."

It was a clever hypotheses, and one that sent a definite shiver down Dan's spine. The thought of Rorschach with even a small percentage of Doctor Manhattan's power was terrifying.

"Or perhaps it is because he did not care. Only does what he is told. He was told to intervene in Vietnam, so he did. He was told to 'Save Rorschach' So he did. Never thought to do more." The smaller vigilante continued to theorize.

The later idea might have chilled Dan even more then the first. The thought that the world's most powerful being could be so apathetic was frightening. He remembered the cool remote tone of the super-human's voice when he transferred Rorschach's limp, sedated body into his arms. He remembered how his heart broke at the first sight of his once powerful partner reduced to nothing but a helpless rag doll, but Doctor Manhattan it seemed, felt nothing at all. He would not have expected a huge emotional reaction, Manhattan scarcely knew Rorschach, but still, to witness another human so broken, and remain completely unaffected, was by all accounts creepy in Dan's book.

"We can't try to judge Doctor Manhattan. He's in a different league then the rest of us. You'll run yourself ragged trying to figure him out. Besides, you owe him your life Ror. I'd just be grateful for that." Dan said finally.

"Manhattan did not save me life. He merely kept me from dying." Rorschach replied, his face still fixed upwards on the endless sea of sky.

Dan laughed and stood up, proceeding to the patio table where his water bottle sat. "I hate to break it to you, but think that means he saved you're life." He chucked before helping himself to a long drink.

"No. You saved my life Daniel." The smaller vigilante spoke with quiet resolve. "There was only one hero that night."

Dan's could feel his face grow warm, and his lips parted in a wide natural smile. The simple sincerity in his partner's reply was enough to make him want to dash over, scoop him up, and embrace him like they were anyone other then themselves. Knowing that this reaction would be far too brazen, he settled for taking a seat beside his friend and giving him and affectionate pat on the shoulder.

"Sometimes you really know what to say."

"Just the truth Daniel."

***

Small though it might have seemed, Rorschach's comment succeeding in putting Dan in a very good mood for the rest of the afternoon. He used his upbeat energy to get some neglected house cleaning done, moving from room to room, dusting and sweeping, all the while singing along to the radio. Rorschach did not seem to mind, lifting his feet off the floor when Dan passed by the couch to vacuum the rug. He did however, seem curious as to why Dan was so fastidious about having a tidy home.

"House is already clean Daniel. Why so much trouble?"

"You kidding? It's not clean at all! There's a layer of dust coating everything. There may not be a lot of clutter, but its still dirty."

Rorschach shrugged and returned to the book he was reading. Dan shook his head with a wry smile. He didn't even want to know what Rorschach's idea of 'dirty' looked like. The thought made him wonder what sort of conditions his partner lived in most of the time. He knew that wherever he lived, it couldn't be very nice. He didn't seem to have a job or any real source of income, so his accommodations had to be cheap enough to be paid for with what he looted from criminals. Dan sighed, every clue about his partner's day life painted a bleak and squalid picture. He hated the thought of his friend returning to such abysmal circumstances once he recovered. _Why can't he just take that damned mask off, and stay here with me…He'd be so much better off. _Still feeling cheerfully empowered by Rorschach's earlier compliment, Dan decided to try his luck again on the roommate subject.

"Have you given it any more thought Ror? About maybe staying here?" He asked without looking up as he dusted the bookshelf, trying hard to remain casual.

There was a awkward moment's pause before the masked vigilante replied quietly, his voice tinged with something Dan thought might be regret; "I told you already…Tempting offer, but would not work out. Cannot live in your home permanently without removing my face."

'So remove it. I won't blow your cover. I don't care who you are under there Rorschach. You're my friend. That's all that matters to me." Dan answered back quickly, his voice still friendly and matter-of-fact. He was trying his best to keep the conversation non-threatening. He heard his partner shift on the couch, and he looked over his shoulder, noticing immediately that the smaller man's posture had become conspicuously more tense.

"I can't do that, Daniel."

To an untrained ear the response would've sounded cold and monotone, but Dan could hear the very slight tremor, the faintest hint of distress. An internal dialogue was coming into focus more clearly by the day. Dan knew that it was Rorschach who was holding back, and Walter, the boy under the mask who's face he had yet to see, wanted nothing more then to accept his offer, to stay with him, to be close to the one person who cared for him, and to build something that, even in the vaguest sense, resembled a family.

Dan sighed and ran a dust rag along the dark wood surface of the bookshelf. He could not help but feel like he was dealing with two people, one of which he was ready to punch in the face. Rorschach was stronger then Walter. Rorschach was likely created for that very reason, to help a weak-willed young man deal with his own inadequacies. However, somewhere along the line things had gotten out of hand, Walter came to rely too heavily on Rorschach, and was now completely at the mercy of his creation. It made him think about his own 'Masked Persona'. Dan liked to think of Nite Owl as an empowered Daniel Dreiburg, but still only a facet of the same individual, controlled by the same heart and mind, holding the same values, both sides alive and human. Rorschach was different, he was a mask which bound his wearer to impossible standards, denying him humanity, forcing him to live entirely and absolutely for black and white justice.

"I hope that changes one day Ror, I really do." Dan replied after a long quiet, turning to his friend with a sad, tired smile as the haunting vocals of Aerosmith's _Dream On _whispered almost unnoticed from the radio in the corner.

***

New York grew cold after dark. The golden sun faded away somewhere beyond New Jersey and took all of the warmth with it, leaving the island city to shiver under the clear black October sky. The metropolis seemed to scream back at the day, betrayed, coughing up crime as if out spite.

Dan was in a strip club, his costumed body stretched languidly over a red leather couch, two women slithering up against him, their fiery hands leaving trails of heat across his chest and sides. He was not there for pleasure, although a pleasant consequence. He was there for information.

"Do you know where your sister is?" he murmured as a breathtakingly beautiful, red haired, Ukrainian woman mouthed the side of his face, trying to peel back the cowl with her teeth. Her lips froze instantly as she absorbed his question and she sat back, gesturing for her companion to leave. Her painted eyes darted nervously around the smoky room as her teeth sunk into her scarlet lip.

"You will bring her back to me, yes?" The fierce blue eyes locked with Dan's, and despite his better judgment he nodded and said;

"I will."

***

Dan hung from a cable outside of an empty apartment building in Brooklyn, waiting.

The trafficking of young foreign born women within American prostitution rings was an offense Dan always found to be particularly disturbing. It was a violation of the American dream, the rape of everything his country stood for. Young girls were brought here on false hopes and dreams of a brighter future, only to be beaten and coerced into prostitution once they arrived. The very thought of it made him sick. Every innocent saved before it was too late gave meaning to all the risks, every trafficker he brought in gave him a sense of deep accomplishment, and that night he was poised to catch another.

The cable swayed, but Dan was entirely unflinching, even with the ground a distant seven stories below him. Soon his prey would arrive.

***

Bullets zipped past as he ducked into a stairwell. Outside he could hear sirens. The shots had alerted the police. Dan wondered if he should feel relieved, at this point he needed the backup. Once again he misjudged what he could handle on his own. He cursed how accustomed to having Rorschach at his side he had become. He could hear the frantic, desperate screams of three young women huddled in a corner across the large empty room which was cluttered with scattered pieces of broken furniture and crumbled plaster. He needed to get to them, but there were three armed men between them, two with their pistols locked on the stairwell where he hid.

Dan went over the layout of the room in his head, where the girls were, where the men stood, and took a deep breath. He held a fog bomb tightly in one hand exhaling slowly to steady his mind before trusting it into the derelict space. He threw himself into the room, his goggles giving him better vision through the fog then his aggressors. He quickly took out one with a swift kick to the head, the subdued the second with equally quick punch to the skull, but as he made for the third, the livid criminal did something Dan did not expect.

The third man was down to his last bullet, but instead of trying one more shot at the costumed hero, he pointed his weapon at the three women, and fired. He turned to Nite Owl slowly, a wide grin spreading devilishly across a twisted, cruel, face.

"You're gonna carry that with you,…Nite Owl." The man said coldly, his deep voice laced with conviction.

He then turned to the window and before Dan could begin to fathom a reaction, he hurled himself through the glass, plummeting to his death on the sidewalk below. The fog cleared in the brief silence to reveal two young Asian women shivering in horror, and the lifeless body of a third person; a tiny Ukrainian girl, with a weeping red hole in her forehead.

***

Dan trudged up the stairs from his basement, each slow deliberate footfall echoing in the stillness like the sound of a hammer on a nail, each hit driving the truth deeper. He pushed the door to the kitchen, not bothering to notice the dirty dish on the table, or the window still left ajar despite the cold. He single mindedly proceeded to the liquor cabinet, only wanting to find sleep, and knowing it would take something strong to bring it.

Perhaps it was in her honor that he reached for the vodka, or perhaps just because it was strong and tasteless, and he only really wanted to find darkness. He unscrewed the cap, and threw back the bottle, drinking deep, as if it were water. The burn did not bother him, in fact he enjoyed it, feeling as if he deserved to suffer a little tonight. The drink betrayed him, its intoxicating effects only succeeded in unhinging his emotions. He broke down at the kitchen counter, weeping openly. It was as if the image of her vacant doll-like face was tattooed to the insides of his eyelids, inescapable. He had failed her, and nothing in this world would change that.

"Daniel?" A hoarse voice inquired curiously.

Dan did not respond at first, his partner's presence took a moment to register through his bleary haze of despair. Finally he glanced over his shoulder to see Rorschach leaning on the door frame to the kitchen, swaying slightly, apparently still groggy from sleep.

"I…I'm sorry man. Were you sleeping down here? Did I wake you up?" Dan replied, rubbing his eyes, trying to pull himself together. He was not in the mood to endure any criticism from Rorschach about being 'soft'.

"Yes, but not a problem. Need a glass of water."

"Ah, yeah sure. Here, I'll get it." Dan selected a clean glass from the dish drainer and stumbled over to the refrigerator, only vaguely aware of how wrecked he looked.

"Daniel, something is wrong?"

"No…no,…nothing. How much ice do you want?"

"Daniel…"

"I said how much ice do you want?"

"Daniel, What happend?"

There was a moment of brief quiet, before Dan spun around to face his partner.

"I'm asking you how much ice do you want?!" He exclaimed, his voice sounding strange in his own ears, wild and disconnected.

Rorschach flinched, his small frame tightening at the sound of Dan's raised voice. He was silent in his reply, only cocking his black and white face curiously to the side in a gesture of detached confusion. Dan was instantly and inexplicably furious with his partner. He bitterly bit back a powerful urge to grab the smaller man and throw him unceremoniously across the room. He only wanted to be alone, or at the very least in the presence of a normal friend, one with eyes and a smile, one who trusted him enough not to keep a sock over his head at all times.

"Forget it. Get your own drink." Dan spat and stormed out of the kitchen, his shoulder clipping his partner on the way out.

"Enk…" Rorschach made a small, barely audible sound as Dan connected with his injured right shoulder. Dan continued a few paces past him before slowing to a halt, his posture wilting despondently.

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me…" He muttered without turning to face the other man. "Just a bad night. Its nothing you did."

"Not every night can be good Daniel."

"I guess not, but this once should've been, its my fault it wasn't."

"Make up for it tomorrow. Find retribution."

"Its not that simple Rorschach. A girl is dead, and so is her killer. There is nothing left to do. I couldn't save her…She's dead. I'm just a fool in a costume, I'm not a superhero, I'm not Doctor-Fucking-Manhattan. Things just keep getting worse, and I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Dan finally turned to look at his partner. Rorschach was still standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching him, the unreadable ink flowing over the vacant face.

"Daniel…" He began quietly, his raspy voice slow and measured. "This world is chaos. People like us, we fight it. Try to make order. Try to be the judgment in society void of intrinsic morality. We often fail, but still a better thing then to hide behind cruel ignorance. Do not let the dead haunt you. We are born from darkness and return to it. All the same. She is not suffering now. She is gone. Hell only exists here with the living, and there is no place in it for you... despair does not suit you Daniel."

It was perhaps the most depressing attempt at consolation Dan could imagine, but in its simplicity it was somehow perfect. There was nothing phony in Rorschach's words, no talk of a better place, no encouragement that next time things would be perfect, no long list of examples of all the good he had done as a costumed hero. There were only two simple truths; All humans die, and it is a better thing to try to bring justice and fail then to turn a blind eye to the world's horrors.

Dan exhaled deeply and allowed a sad, exhausted smile to lift his somber features. He understood then that Rorschach knew the gravity of the moment, that in his own way he was trying to keep him as he was, to save him from becoming what he had become.

"Do you still want that glass of water?"

"Yes. Lots of ice please."

-

-

_I know nobody knows,  
where it comes and where it goes,  
I know it's everybody's sin,  
You got to lose to know how to win_

_-Steven Tyler_

_-_

_-_

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Author's Notes:I'm going on vacation this weekend, (yaaaay!!) I hope I can get a lot of the next chapter done before I go so that its not late next week. Thanks again for the reviews and encouragement! The next chapter is one I've been so very excited to write, its really screwy, I hope you guys will like it, but we shall see. Also, there is some more art for this story up on my LJ page.

-Jackie


	16. Chapter 15

Author's Notes: Okay, warning from the get go, this chapter is screwy. Its kinda slashy, kinda goofy, and kinda angsty and all around weird. Also for a proper mental picture, if you have never heard the song "Touch Me" by the doors I recommend that you you tube it or something. (at least the first 30 or so seconds of it.) You don't have to of course, but it'll certainly help at one point if you know what that song sounds like.

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"What is this leaf? Tastes strange."

"Its arugula."

"Aru-What?"

"Arugula, its an aromatic herb often used in Mediterranean cooking. Its good for you, and it adds a nice peppery taste to salads. I like it."

"Peppery…hurm…Suppose so. Tastes like over-priced liberal salad greens."

Dan completely lost it, dropping his fork, and nearly choking on a tomato slice as he burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"Li- Liberal…_salad greens!?_" he was pitched forward, shaking his head incredulously and rubbing his eyebrows as he squinted hard, trying to fight back another fit of laughter. "You- You are the ONLY person I've ever met who could label a type of lettuce as left-wing…Oh Ror, You have got to be the most paranoid person in the world… liberal sala--" Dan couldn't finish the sentence, falling victim to another spasm of rampant cackling.

"I don't see what's so funny, this is certainly not normal _American_ lettuce. Yet another strange foreign vegetable popularized among smug intellectuals, people who think themselves above the rest of society because their produce--"

Dan raised his hand begging Rorschach to be quiet, by now his glasses were askew, he was gasping for breath, and there were tears running down his cheeks.

"Stop!, just stop for a minute…I'm dying here." He gasped between fits of hysteria.

Eventually Dan was able to collect himself and he leaned back, taking a deep breath to steady his composure as he pulled off his glasses and proceeded to clean them with his napkin.

"Ohh Rorschach…Rorschach, Rorschach… You really are one in a million. Sometimes you just kill me. I love ya man, I really do."

Rorschach's half masked face stared at Dan for a long moment before returning to his salad, tongue flicking out to lick away an errant fleck of Italian dressing on his lower lip.

"Aruga-whatever…It is alright I suppose." he muttered.

Dan snorted and shook his head as he too returned to eating.

It was Saturday, late afternoon, and Dan did not want to even think about patrolling. He was only beginning to come to a numbed acceptance of the previous night's events, and as odd as it felt to admit it; all he really wanted to do was stay home and spend an evening with Rorschach. It was not because the ink faced man just happened to be there either. Dan honestly did not want to be close to anyone else at the moment. His partner's quirky unsettling demeanor, unintentional (and often amusing) rudeness, and dry unfiltered honesty was bizarrely comforting in his current state. There was no other person Dan could think of who could understand completely and continue the day normally, without coddling, awkward condolence, or a single trace of phoniness. But there was another thing as well, something in Rorschach that Dan was only now beginning to understand, something that made him feel unequivocally close to outwardly untouchable man. Rorschach, or rather _Walter_, loved him.

The thought had crept into Dan's brain more then once over the last few days, but on all occasions he had tried not to over think it. After all, consideration of the word 'Love' and the name 'Rorschach' within a single sentence sounded more then a bit taboo to say the least. However, in the wake of the previous evening's tragedy, the sort of moment that makes a person deeply assess one's life and relationships, Dan could come to no other conclusion.

He found himself musing over the notion in the shower early that afternoon. Thinking of all the delicate moments when 'Rorschach' cracked a little, and 'Walter' spoke, he came to realize, decidedly, that this man, this caged, hidden, sensitive individual, loved him. Love was a word that he had chosen at his own discretion to describe the feelings that he was now certain were there, but he was not about to dare consider the possibility of romantic love, he was not even sure if his partner was capable of that emotion. Love however, in the purest sense, the raw, unfiltered, often agonizingly painful, but most beautiful human emotion, that, he concluded, was most certainly there.

It lifted his heart to accept this idea, to allow himself to agree to the fact that his partner loved him. It gave Dan a little spark of hope in his seemingly fathomless desolation. In spite of all the darkness in the world, all the rampant hatred, a man as damaged and broken as Rorschach still retained enough humanity to love someone.

Dan finished his salad, then stood to peek into the oven.

"Ah, I think its done." He said, removing a very hot pan containing a pasta dish, and setting it carefully on the stove top. "The sauce is probably lava hot right now, so we should let it sit for a few minutes before we eat, I'll get the wine while we wait."

Rorschach watched quietly as Dan retrieved two chilled bottles from his refrigerator, one a dark purplish red, the other pale yellow.

"I will pass on the alcohol Daniel." The masked man said with a very slight hint of reluctance.

"Aw c'mon Ror, you can't have Italian food without wine. Besides, I picked up another bottle of this 'Moscato' for you. I don't really like it much. Relax, in no time things will be back to normal and you'll need your constant vigilance, but for now you can let yourself go a little."

The smaller vigilante was silent for a while and Dan smirked, knowing that behind the mask there was almost certainly a long deliberation taking place. Without waiting for an answer Dan uncorked the bottle and filled a tumbler with the white wine. He didn't trust Rorschach's shaky hands with his stemware.

"Here you are, drink it slow, all you've had is salad. It'll go to your head on an empty stomach."

Rorschach accepted the glass with a hint of reluctance and took a careful sip, holding the sweet liquid in his mouth briefly before swallowing it.

"Thank you for buying this again… I don't like alcohol, but this is very good."

Dan smiled. "Well, you finished the bottle last time. I figured you enjoyed it."

He poured himself a large glass of a strong Pinot Noir and then proceeded to serve the rest of the meal. The pasta bake turned out very good, the sauce sweet and fragrant with basil, and the expensive cheese he had purchased was well worth the money. Dan enjoyed food, perhaps a little too much, but after the previous night he felt little guilt in being indulgent. He drank heavier then he normally would, refilling his glass as soon as he drained it. He knew it was likely on account of his desire to push away reality a bit, to let his senses blur, to allow himself to forget about the way things were and what boundaries needed to remain in place. He refilled Rorschach's glass without him asking, but was pleased to see the smaller man draining it anyway. By the time the meal was over, Dan was vaguely aware that they were both showing definite signs of intoxication, and in that he felt a strange sense of victory.

He cleared the table and suggested they move to the living room where it was more comfortable, but he brought along a second bottle of red wine and the remainder of the white. He proceeded to the radio to find a good station as his partner flopped down lazily on the couch. Rorschach appeared to be fighting desperately to retain his usual formality, but his movements were touched with a clumsy awkwardness, and Dan could tell he was having a very hard time keeping his mind focused on the way he 'ought to act'.

Dan screwed around with the dial, he was dressed in faded levis and thin black tee-shirt, weight shifted languidly on one hip, a half full glass of wine in hand, feeling incredibly loose and slightly unhinged, and all together looking like everything a young man should in 1975. The frequency finally brought in something to his liking and his eyebrows lifted excitedly as he spun around in what came off far as a more confident motion then a sober Dan would have ever been capable of.

"C'mon, C'mon, C'mon, C'mon! Now touch me baby! Can't you see that I am not afraid!" He belted out loud and unexpectedly in a very good impression of Jim Morrison's vocals.

Rorschach stiffened immediately as if hit in the face with a baseball, nearly spilling his drink on himself in the process, his partner's sudden burst of song catching him entirely off guard.

"Oh I'm gonna love you till the heavens start to rain, I'm gonna love you till the stars fall from the sky, for you and I!" Dan continued to sing along, and then danced over to the couch with a strange, fluid, drunken grace as the song progressed into an instrumental interlude.

He slid onto the sofa opposite Rorschach, still jiving along to music until he finally relaxed against the cushions, throwing back his glass and draining the remainder of the drink.

"Don't let me give you the creeps. I just really like this song, its groovy." He said with a wide grin as he reached for the Pinot.

As his fingers touched the cool glass he took notice of a stifled sniffling sound coming from Rorschach's direction. His brown eyes flicked up to see his partner, a thin hand covering his mouth, the other holding his nearly empty glass, his body leaned back against the couch cushions, The motion in his narrow shoulders giving away what Dan would have thought impossible. He caught the corner of Rorschach's mouth from behind his fingers, twisted up into a hard fought smirk, teeth just glinting in the low light of the room. He was laughing.

"What!? Hey are you, are you laughing at me?!" Dan chided back in shock.

"Sorry…Couldn't help it…Never saw you dance before…You are drunk Daniel. Very drunk." Rorschach replied, sniffling loudly, still trying hard to hold back any vocal laughter, still covering his mouth.

"I'm drunk?! You're _laughing!_ You've got to be plastered man. I don't know if I've _ever_ heard you laugh, even back when you were kind of normal."

"_Kind of_ normal? Glad to know you think that at one time I was '_kind of_ normal'. Good to know. Thanks Daniel. " Rorschach replied with a hint of sarcasm that Dan found delightfully human.

"Take your hand off your mouth, I know you're smiling under there."

Rorschach did as he was told but by the time his hand was away his jaw was again set in its usual unflinching expression. Dan shook his head and reached for the Moscato, leaning over to refill his partner's glass.

"You're gonna finish this bottle, and I'm gonna see you smile by the end of it."

"Don't get your hopes up Daniel, not unless you plan to do something even more ridiculous."

"Oh don't tempt me." Dan glared back fiercely as if the statement were a challenge.

"Hurm…"

"Is that a dare Rorschach?"

"I don't know."

"I could tickle you. I'm sure I could get a full blown laugh that way. I know you're ticklish as hell." Dan replied with an indolent arrogance, pointing at his partner absently with the hand holding his glass before taking another sip.

"I'd kill you." Rorschach said with a cool shrug.

"Pffft…Mr. big talker. I'd like to see you try." Dan laughed, his voice becoming more noticeably slurred by the moment. He glared devilishly over the rim of his glass for a few seconds, and then lunged forward, stopping himself just a hair short of his partner, fingers poised as if ready to tickle him mercilessly. Rorschach was stiff as a board, teeth clenched, body taut and braced.

"Heh, you thought I was gonna do it, and look! I'm still alive!" Dan laughed triumphantly and leaned back into his corner of the sofa. "I won't tickle you. I don't want you to hurt your ribs or anything. Maybe one day though, now that I know your secret."

"Secrets…Have more then that..." Rorschach replied, his raspy voice slow with intoxication.

Even through his drunken haze Dan was instantly curious. "Hmm…yes, most of us do have plenty of secrets…You maybe more then most. Lets play a game."

"No…Don't like games."

"Okay here's how we play, I'll tell you something about myself. Something you don't know…" Dan explained, pausing to lift his glass for another sip. He licked the dark liquid off his lips, which were becoming noticeably stained purplish, before wiping a bit of sweat from his reddened cheek and continuing.

"Then, you tell me something, that way you see, it's a fair exchange."

"Don't like this game." Rorschach hiccuped.

"Okay I'll start." Dan completely ignored Rorschach's weak protest. "Alright lets see…I lost my virginity when I was 19, to a botany major, in the lounge of the science building at four in the morning. We knew nobody else would be in there…no one else was that nerdy."

Dan thought he caught a snort from his partner.

"Very fitting for you Daniel."

"I know! Its so fitting for me it sounds like I made it up. I'm a walking cliché." Dan laughed.

"Only you could find a science whore." Rorschach muttered with a very slight touch of amusement.

"Hey now, I wouldn't call her a whore, we dated for a little while afterwards…like two weeks or something…Okay! Anyhow, its your turn."

Rorschach was silent in response, idly swirling the wine in his glass. Dan's eyes were fixed on him, with set determination, his smoky drunken gaze holding the smaller man captive.

"Partially blinded another boy with a lit cigarette when I was eleven years old...didn't want trouble…but he asked for it."

Dan's mouth dropped in an almost cartoonish fashion. "Y-you _WHAT?!_"

"Do you think I'm awful?"

"N-no, no…but why?"

"I told you,…he asked for it. Your turn Daniel."

Dan took another long drink. There was a logical voice buried deep under the fog in his brain trying to tell him that maybe this game was a bad idea, but he ignored it. Despite its disturbing nature, it was a confession none the less, and Dan hungered for more.

"Alright. Here goes. When we first started working together, ten years ago, the way you could fight made me so jealous. I trained constantly to try and get better then you. I improved quite a bit, but I don't think I've ever been your match. Eventually I gave up on trying to best you and found pride in my inventions and stuff."

Rorschach replied with a grunt that sounded very close to a laugh. "To each his own."

"Your turn."

The smaller vigilante finished his drink, then set the empty glass aside, having drained the entire bottle.

"…Have enjoyed these two weeks, in spite of pain and humiliation. Have enjoyed being…like normal fiends. Cannot stay this way much longer, but I am glad to have experienced this before I die." He spoke quietly with a very apparent slur that told Dan this was not something sober Rorschach would ever admit to.

"What's your name?"

"Wal-" Rorschach halted, desperately catching himself.

"What was that?"

"No,…I can't…" His tone was so conflicted, and Dan could tell that right now he was almost entirely Walter, and Rorschach was just a tiny voice screaming through the drunken haze demanding that he keep his secrets.

"Alright. I won't push you, but I want to know you Ror. I want to know the man under that face. The man who's sitting here right now. I know you aren't Rorschach now. I know Rorschach…and this isn't him. I like this guy though. I like him just as much. " Dan could tell his speech was overly simplistic, but he was too smashed to properly articulate himself, and he had a feeling his partner was too far gone to follow complicated speech anyway.

"Daniel…you…you are a good friend. Never want to loose you…so afraid I will."

"If you can take that face off, I promise you…You will never loose me."

The words fell clumsily from his lips and he was no longer aware of aware of boundaries or taboos. He rested back against the soft cushions, closing his eyes.

"You're all talk Rorschach…all talk…" Dan murmured without opening his eyes. "I know…I know everything…I know your secrets. Figured you out. I love you too, you know... How couldn't I? We're just two guys…alone against such disgusting odds…we're all each other has in this whole Goddamn mess….." His voice trailed off as he began to loose touch with his surroundings. He was only vaguely aware of a shifting weight on the cushions beside him, of something moving closer.

"You know…I'm afraid too, afraid I'll loose you…Afraid that ink face will eat your soul…crush that little heart of yours…" Dan was whispering now, his voice becoming distant, just barely clinging to awareness as all of his emotions bled out of him in a delirious ecstasy.

"Its all understood between us…You know, and I know, and its all here with us now…and all of it…hinges on trust, compromise…and I just wish…"

Dan's head collapsed lifelessly to the side, and felt something press up against him as he drifted away. A slim angular body curled itself into the space under his arm, reaching across him to cling to his shirt, resting its head cautiously on his chest. It shivered there, trembling against him, and as the shadows devoured all his thoughts he could hear a thin reedy voice pleading to the abyss;

"_Don't leave me…"_

On the cusp of blackness and dreams Dan could hear a rustle of fabric, a whispering echo that he could not manage to grasp. The final traces of perception dwindled to smoke and were gone just as he felt something like skin touch his collar bone and faintest brush of feathery curls against the underside of his jaw.

-

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Author's notes: Okay, So originally I was going to take this chapter into the following morning when they wake up all hung over and not really recalling a whole lot of what happened, but I liked it ending there. So just to make sure we are on the same page, by the time morning comes around Ror has come to before Dan, and made like nothing happened. Dan will probablly question for years how much of the end of this chap was real or if he had hallucinated or drempt it. Also, if you totally hated this one, just ignore it. The rest of the story will work without this chapter.


	17. Chapter 16

Among many other things, it was the wind Dan would remember when his thoughts returned to that Monday night in 1975. It was constant and fierce, making his cloak whip noisily around him and burning his exposed cheeks raw. From where he stood, stark still, atop one of the tallest buildings on the island of Manhattan, the howl was deafening. He turned his eyes skyward to watch thick, soot gray clouds move with eerie swiftness across a bleak and shadowy night sky, occasionally parting enough to reveal a haunting yellow moon.

Dan's attention was pulled from the heavens by the chopping sounds of an approaching aircraft, and he turned to view a slick, very modern, violet helicopter coming in for a landing. He watched as the craft alighted effortlessly on the rooftop, its spinning blades slowing once it was securely grounded. Dan was somewhat relieved by the sight the telltale purple and gold paint job. He had admittedly been wary about the message he received over his radio an hour earlier, asking him to come alone to this sky-high location. Years of experience bid him not to trust such requests, and never to believe people were always who they said the were.

The man who stepped out of the helicopter was however, exactly who he said he'd be. He was dressed as Dan remembered him in their previous meetings, in a brilliant gold metallic body suit, violet silk tunic and cloak, and gleaming gauntlets. His shining sun-blond hair was immediately disheveled by the violent wind, but it only served to enhance his commanding presence. The one change to his costume was the lack of a mask around his eyes, that and a new accessory, a thing that made Dan's hairs stand on end. An enormous cat, unlike any creature Dan had ever seen, followed the golden figure out of the aircraft with an easy predatory grace. It was the size of a lion, with freakishly long ears and maroon fur. It was like an animal out of a surrealist painting, strange and unnatural.

"Ahh Nite Owl, So glad you agreed to meet with me." The man spoke with an intrinsic confidence.

Dan nodded. "Ozymandias." He paused, his eyes fixed uncertainly on the monstrous beast padding fluidly around the golden hero's legs. "May I ask--"

"Beautiful, isn't she? Her name is Bubastis, my most recent creation. She is a genetically engineered hybrid lynx." Ozymandias answered Dan before he could even begin.

Dan gaped in sheer wonder at the animal before him. "Genetically engineered…Oh my God…Ozy--"

"Its Adrian now Daniel."

"Adrian." Dan swallowed hard and wrenched his eyes away from the cat. "Why have you called me here. You are retired, what to you want? Why are you still dressed like that?"

"I thought I'd keep it familiar for you Dan, since I know how you enjoy these personas we created."

Dan could not help but feel a bit like he was being mocked and his posture tightened reflexively.

"Easy Daniel, I meant no insult. I'm just feeling a bit nostalgic tonight. This fierce wind and feverish sky take me back, it was not so long ago that I was out here just like you are now." The slightly taller man replied fondly.

"No its wasn't…but that's beside the point. You must have a reason to want to see me."

"Of course."

There was a pause and Dan could feel a rising frustration, Adrian's icy blue eyes seemed to be sizing up every inch of him, looking past his armor, boring into his soul.

"Dan, you created your hover craft all on your own, did you not?"

"W-Well yes. It took a lot of research, and hell of a lot of work, but yes… I designed and built Archie."

"Incredible…and I've seen what this ship is capable of. Its no toy." Adrian mused, his eyes wandering over the Owlship hovering behind Dan.

"What is it you intend to do with the rest of your life Dan?"

"The rest-- What are you talking about?"

"Do you really think you can run around being a hero into your middle age? And even if your body holds up well enough, how much longer do you think you can do this legally?"

"You're talking about that bill Senator Keene wants to pass."

"It will pass. Maybe not for another few years. But it will pass eventually. That's why you really ought to start thinking about what comes after this… this 'career' of yours."

Dan did not like the direction the conversation was taking, but he was curious why Ozymandias cared about his life and plans. He studied the man in front of him, who was idly stroking his magnificent feline's head as he patiently waited for a reply, and wondered what could he could possibly want with him. When Dan did not answer, Adrian continued, unfazed.

"You want to do good in the world, this I understand clearly about you Daniel, but let me just say; there are far more profound ways of doing that then running about the streets of New York picking off petty criminals while dressed as an owl." The blue eyes shifted from the burgundy cat to Dan. "My company is on the verge of very big things…Things that you could be a part of if you desire."

"Wait. You called me up here to offer me a job?" Dan replied dubiously.

Adrian laughed. "Simply put, yes. Daniel, I was once a vigilante, and I have affection for my fellow 'caped crusaders'. At Veidt Enterprises I intend to do, on a much larger scale what we have been trying to do all along; make the world a better place. I respect the spirit of our fraternity, but sadly, most of the other costumed heroes are of little use to my company. You however, are an exception. You're a genius Daniel."

Dan shifted nervously, he could feel his body growing warm under his suit, and sweat gathering in his palms. Adrian Veidt had been dubbed 'The World's Smartest Man', to be called a genius by him was certainly flattering, but still Dan could not shake the rising sensation of unease. He felt as though he was shrinking under the piercing azure gaze, held captive, trapped.

"T-Thank you Adrian." Dan stammered hopelessly. "But I, I don't know if I am ready to quit this life. Its not illegal yet. I've put so much of myself into creating Nite Owl, I…I'm not sure I'm ready to give him up."

"Do not consider what I offer 'giving up' anything. I like to think that I am more Ozymandias now then I ever was as a vigilante…Everyday…I come closer to changing this world for the better. You could do the same, if you'll join me." His confidence was unshakable, each word spoken effortlessly, with a calm grace that Dan found both enticing and terrifying. His perfection made Dan think of Rorschach, of his poor broken partner, suffering every moment of his life, falling apart hour by hour, so unlike the golden conqueror before him.

"I already have a partner." The statement came out clumsily, and Dan could feel himself blushing with embarrassment. Everything he said sounded childish in the presence of Ozymandias, naïve, and sickeningly innocent. He could see the corner of Adrian's mouth curl up into a cool smirk, and he felt himself flush deeper.

"Ahh Dan…You are so very adorable, and I mean that in the most affectionate sense, I really do." The taller man's silk tunic and cape fluttered gorgeously around his sculpted form as he strode a few paces closer, closing the gap between them to scarcely more than arm's length apart. Dan tensed as the cat followed, its huge satiny body brushing his legs as it padded between them.

"Rorschach." Adrian continued coolly. "You really think he is deserving of your loyalty? Daniel…I apologize in advance for what I am about to say…but you belong in better company, far better company."

Dan's throat clenched, but he said nothing.

"Rorschach is mad Daniel. I have been studying our little fraternity over the years and he displays all the signs of a true sociopath. His mind is a fragmented clutter of self imagined illusions and misanthropic delirium. You would do well not to let him drag you down. Have you ever stopped to wonder if perhaps he has much to do with why you are so…alone?"

Dan's mouth was dry, his limbs felt unmovable, his body was trapped under the cold scrutinizing eyes.

"Rorschach will not last more then another ten years Daniel…and he is beyond repair. You waste yourself on him. Your devotion to our little madman has only succeeded in stealing you away from the company of… worthy individuals."

"He… is a worthy individual…"

Adrian smiled and laughed silkily. "Oh Daniel…I am sorry. I did not come here to insult your…friend.I came here to talk to_ you_. Forgive me… It just pains me to think that such a beautiful mind hides in darkness and keeps company with… lost souls." He turned to look skyward, watching the wisps of clouds trace past the moon, his striking features lit by the silvery light, making his face appear as though it were carved from marble.

Dan swallowed hard and continued. "I appreciate this Adrian…I do…I'm just not ready yet…I'm not ready to quit…I'm not ready to give--"

"Up on him." Ozymandias cut him off, finishing his sentence with a slight smile.

"That's not what I was going to say…"

"But it's what you meant."

Dan wanted nothing more then to turn and run, to board Archie and flee to the stars. It was as if the imposing man before him was siphoning his every emotion and feeding on each tiny insecurity and painful aspiration. But even under such agonizing inquiry, he could not manage to pull himself from that predatory gaze, those haunting eyes, so clear, so pure, so certain.

"It's not just that,…its not just him…" Dan whispered, his confidence crushed, doubting every ungainly word that left his own mouth.

Adrian took a step forward and laid a firm hand on Dan's shoulder. "You do not have to decide tonight, but sooner would be better. My offer stands, but not forever."

Dan nodded weakly. "Thank you…Adrian."

The golden hero returned the nod and his lips parted in a smile that was in one instant both enchanting and mysteriously sinister. "Of course Daniel. I do hope that I hear from you."

With that he turned back towards his aircraft, gesturing for his monstrous feline to follow. As he boarded the helicopter he paused, his piecing silvery eyes falling on Dan one more time.

"It is a beautiful night my friend, and it belongs to you. Savor it, but remember; All good things must in turn come to an end…it is the only way to embrace the future."

Dan remained on the rooftop long after the sound of the helicopter blades faded away into the howling wind and unrelenting drone of the city below. The clouds covered the moon and he was engulfed in a black and starless void, entirely alone above the blue-green glow of the massive island metropolis at his feet. He understood in his isolation that he was but single a sentinel overlooking that urban abyss, and he had no more words to offer the damned, only questions.

_***_

Dan pulled the Owlship into his basement hideaway, it was two in the morning. He did not shut down the engine or turn off the lights. He did not change out of his costume as he headed for the stairs to his kitchen. When the reached the first floor he saw that it was pitch black, all the lights off. He turned them on as he moved purposely through the house. He paused to look at the living room couch, it was unoccupied, at this observation he turned to the stairs and climbed to the second floor.

He pushed the door to the guest room, slowing his pace only slightly to take in his surroundings. A familiar figure was curled under a thick quilt, its head covered by a mask lifted just to the nose for easier breathing. He felt only the slightest twinge on annoyance that his partner still slept with it on, afraid of being intruded upon, just as Dan was doing now. He approached the bed, lifting his goggles up to rest on his forehead. He reached out a hand tentatively and laid it on the hard angular shoulder under the quilt.

Rorschach was awake in a split second, his muscles instantly tight, his nervous, hair-trigger reaction time as prevalent as ever.

"Daniel?" He coughed, his raspy voice groggy with sleep.

"Hey there Buddy,…" Dan's fingers closed around the smaller man's left arm as he gently coaxed him up into a seated position.

"What are you doing Daniel?" The gravely voice was laden with confusion.

"C'mon, We're taking Archie out, just to fly around for a while…Here, let me help you up."

"Were you not just out Daniel? Don't understand…Was sleeping…"

Rorschach was unsteady on his feet, still tired, and hopelessly perplexed. His body was stiff and he stumbled as Dan helped him cross the hall. Dan waited while he used the bathroom, pacing in the hallway, his cape drifting restlessly about his ankles. When the smaller vigilante emerged Dan slipped his arm around his waist and carefully assisted him down the stairs, through the living room and kitchen, and finally down to the basement where the Owlship waited, engine humming.

"Its cold tonight,…here…let me get you something," Dan said with a warm smile. He retrieved his own beige trench coat, easily two sizes too large for his partner, and wrapped it about the smaller man, tying the belt around his slim waist.

"Ah, and here you are." Dan said with a peculiar cheerfulness as he pulled a tattered brown fedora from a box under his work bench and plopped it on the masked head.

"Coat is too big Daniel… and need shoes." Rorschach grumbled, curling his bony toes against the frigid concrete, still entirely baffled.

"AH! Of course you do. Here they are."

Dan produced two worn ankle boots from the box, and helped his partner step into them, smirking a bit at how he suddenly gained at least two inches of height.

"Alright, So we're set? Lets roll."

"Daniel." Rorschach's voice was now firm, his tone more characteristic of himself. "You are acting strange. Why are you dragging me out so late in the night. It is you that insists I sleep, says that I am to weak to be out. You are not making sense."

"We can talk while we are flying out…lets just go." Dan muttered, coaxing his awkwardly dressed friend onto the ship. He could feel Rorschach's suspicious eyes on him as he locked down the door of the ship and blasted through the tunnel and into the East River. As they rocketed into the black water as they did on countless patrol nights over the past decade he allowed himself a sideways glance as his partner. Rorschach was dressed in some remote semblance of his usual self, the battered fedora helping considerably to conjure the familiar presence. _Its fine…everything is as it should be…_

The fluid latex face turned to Dan, tilted slightly, an air of wary suspicion in the smaller man's posture.

"Something is wrong Daniel. You are not acting like yourself." Rorschach said slowly once the ship cleared the water and rose smoothly above the city.

"I…I was just lonely on patrol tonight. I miss having you with me." Dan replied softly as he steered the ship high above the river, setting it to hover facing Manhattan, the nighttime skyline glittering stunningly over the inky water.

"Possibly true…But your actions, still uncharacteristic."

"I just…" Dan sighed. The urban lights filled him with a kind of poignant calm, his sudden flurry of desperation beginning to surrender to a sedated understanding.

"Rorschach…" He said slowly, and his voice felt heavy on his own tongue, the truth so bitter in his throat. "Something did happen tonight, but it doesn't matter right now,…everything is…fine like this." He quoted his friend's common response to things, the simple answer uttered so many times in the past, when things were so obviously not fine at all.

Rorschach looked from Dan to the city, then back to Dan. Now it was him moving quickly with the hint of panic, as Dan reclined in the pilot's seat, his glazed brown eyes fixed meditatively on thousands of diamond lights.

"Daniel…Don't understand…why are you…"

"Shh… Just sit here with me for a while, then we'll go home."

Dan reached over to the passenger side and laid a hand on Rorschach's shoulder, guiding him back against the seat.

"The city looks beautiful tonight…"

"Looks the same as always…lights only mask its depravity…Daniel…what happened?…What is wrong with you?"

"I told you, it doesn't matter, I just needed you hear with me, and now you are."

"Needed me?…Daniel…What ha--"

"This view,…we've seen it together so many times... So many nights before we fly into that tangle of steel and concrete, where we willing offer our blood as sacrifice to this…monstrous urban deity…All a penitence for sins we have not committed, wrongs that we inherit by proxy, by our own decision to take up these masks." Dan's voice was thin and rambling, coated with ten years of strain. "To think of it like this…our lives…you and I…and this place…Two men, alone…beside each other...blindly offering all we are…"

"Daniel…what are you implying?"

"Nothing Rorschach…I'm just rambling." Dan smiled at the confounded ink blot face and then turned back to the window.

Rorschach stood abruptly, looking around the cabin anxiously.

"Should go home Daniel. Is late. Need sleep."

"Why are you so nervous?"

"Something is not right! Who did this to you Daniel!?" The injured vigilante snapped, his voice tight and strained.

"It does not matter, all that matters is that we are here right now." Dan replied very quietly, and he observed as Rorschach continued to shift uneasily.

"Don't…don't like the way you are looking at me Daniel…"

"How is that?" Dan tilted head, his eyes narrowing with quiet concern.

"You…are looking at me…in the way that someone looks at person who is dying."

Dan was silent at the statement, staring at the latex space where he was sure his partner's own eyes were. He held Rorschach captive there much the same way Ozymandias had done to him only hours earlier, the smaller man trapped under his gaze, uncomfortable but unable to move. Black ink flowed fast over the white canvas, giving away it's wearer's stress, the heat rising to his face, the tense nerves below tight skin.

_a true sociopath_

-

_mind is a fragmented clutter of self imagined illusions and misanthropic delirium…_

-

_Ten years…_

_-  
_

_beyond repair…_

_-  
_

"Daniel…" Rorschach choked, and for the fist time Dan was aware that he was breaking him, a thing he would not have thought possible only two weeks earlier. Dan knew he was not himself tonight, his somber features were not hiding the grief he felt every time he looked at his partner. He was looking at a flame, burning ever hotter since the day it was born, soon to be nothing more then ash and cinders.

"_Daniel…_" The thin raspy voice cracked, pleading now.

-

_Walter…_

_-  
_

Finally Dan's lips parted into a relaxed and familiar smile as he reached out to take his friend's hand.

"I sure hope you aren't dying. I've been working awfully hard to help you get better." His voice returned to its usual friendly tone, and Dan could see Rorschach's entire body unwind a little.

"I know its late as all Hell, but I'm starving, I'm going to order a pizza. We can pick it up then head home."

Rorschach nodded and returned to his seat still watching Dan's every move as he called in the order from the communicator on the ship, refusing to give a phone number when asked. As Dan set down the receiver he turned to his partner once more.

"Thanks for coming out. I'm sorry if I scarred you a little. Everything is alright now. Don't worry." He knelt down beside passenger seat, resting his hand on Rorschach's tense shoulder. He was shivering a bit, still on edge, still confused, and Dan felt a sudden wave of guilt for upsetting him. It was his responsibility to be the stable one, his obligation not to let the cracks show, his task to hold all the fragments together, his duty to lie.

"We're fine right?" Dan leaned forward, tilting his head to meet the eyes under the mask. "Right?"

Rorschach nodded slightly and replied in the very softest whisper;

-

"Yes_...Fine like this." _

_-_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Author's notes: Not a whole lot to say about this chapter, it was a fairly important one as I'm sure you could guess. In case anyone cares, I listened to Philip Glass - Priutt Igoe & Prophecies, and Metamorphosis 2 a whole lot when writing it. (not surprising that it came out rather dark)


	18. Chapter 17

"Stretch your arm out as far as you can for me."

"…like this?"

"That's good…very good…Can you touch your head?"

Rorschach was sitting on Dan's workbench, which was draped with a soft clean sheet. He was stripped down to a pair of light gray cotton shorts, his pale, white legs dangling over the edge of the bench, his bare feet far from touching the cement floor. To Dan's surprise he was being remarkably cooperative. He lifted a shaky right arm until it was nearly level with his shoulder and managed to touch his head, cheating just a little by looking down. Dan smiled and cleared his throat.

"I think you'll regain a full range of motion in that shoulder. I was worried…I didn't want to tell you until I was sure, but with that gunshot wound I knew there was good chance that arm would never move right again. You're lucky."

"Hurm…Good to know."

"You're looking a lot better. The bruising is clearing up, and the wounds are healing nicely. How do you feel?" Dan asked, stealing a peanut butter puff from the bowl beside his partner. Food, it seemed, did wonders to calm Rorschach down during moments like these.

"Feeling somewhat better. Ribs still hurt the most. Tired all the time too. Frustrating."

Dan nodded sympathetically. "Its still only been a little over two weeks, You have a long way to go, but you're looking better, a lot better. You'll get there. Don't worry." He laid a warm palm on his partner's shoulder, rubbing the cool speckled skin gently with his thumb. He knew the gesture was perhaps to boldly affectionate, but like a person who looks upon a loved one who is terminally ill, he could not help himself anymore.

He was becoming more aware now that every moment between the two of them was fleeting. He was nearly certain that when his strength returned, Rorschach would devour Walter, and any chance of him meeting the real person under the ink blot face. The innocent boy he had come to know through these strange days would be gone once again. But in spite of this awareness, a small part of him held out hope that maybe their time together had changed something, that Rorschach's single minded departure from reality may have been halted, and things would go back to the way they were before that case with the little girl. Sadly, he doubted it. His partner's own voice reverberated endlessly in his thoughts, a bitter reminder that what seemed like progress may very well only be a temporary illusion.

_Not everything is like a machine in your workshop Daniel…Some things are broken for good…_

Yet still Dan sat him there on his workbench, as if he were just another gadget, as if all he needed to do was find a few lost screws, and the little broken machine would be running perfectly. Simple logic and everyone he knew told him it was hopeless, but there he found himself in spite of them, digging though his proverbial tool box, looking for those screws, wanting to prove them all wrong. So desperately he still wanted to believe, like he did once, that every wrong was just another case; a problem to solve.

Rorschach eyed Dan's hand on his shoulder suspiciously before looking up to meet his distracted gaze.

"Stop it. Told you last night…Don't like the way you have been looking at me…The way you are acting…" The fiery vigilante hissed, suddenly defensive.

The sharp response caught Dan off guard; he knew what Rorschach spoke of. It was not his wish to look at him in that way, it was not something he wanted to believe. It pained him to think it was painted all over his face more and more these days.

"I'm sorry, its not that… Its just…" Dan released his partner's shoulder and the scratched his head, trying to shake off the dark implications of his somber features.

"Just what?" Rorschach snarled.

"Well, you're looking better, a lot better, and that's good." Dan stammered, his usual awkwardness returning. "…but it kind of makes me sad."

The black and white face tilted quizzically.

"I think you should stay here for at least another week...but I know you… You'll leave soon. I just have this feeling I'll wake up one morning and you'll be gone." Dan paused and chewed his lip before taking another shot at what he knew by now was a dead issue. "Really, I wish you'd just take my offer and be my roommate. I think it would be good for both of us to have the company, These two weeks have been good,…like old times."

The smaller vigilante let out a ragged sigh. "Impossible Daniel."

"Don't ya see Ror? This is why I'm looking at you like _that_. It's because I'm worried about you! What will happen to you after you leave here? Why can't you just trust me? After all of this, everything we've been through…You're as Goddamned stubborn as ever! You say I'm your friend, but you still keep the better part of yourself from me." Dan's patience was waning. It was as if he knew how to fix the broken machine on his workbench , but he could not find a way to pry it open to get at the wiring. He was almost certain that if he could somehow strip away Rorschach, get Walter to be nothing other than himself, maybe there would be a way to save him. It was a foolish hope, but hope none the less.

"Not the better part of myself…" the smaller man rasped softly, his head slightly bent.

It was the same argument time and again.

"I just don't know what to do with you Ror,…" Dan replied with a long defeated sigh as he leaned back and plopped a hand atop the masked head in front of him, rubbing it as if there was hair present to ruffle. He simply did not have the stamina to remain angry with his ever difficult friend.

"Can I get dressed now Daniel?" Rorschach inquired, glancing up from under Dan's hand.

"Yeah, I'm done. Here are your clothes." Dan handed his partner his folded, light blue pajama bottoms and white tee-shirt. As the smaller vigilante dressed, Dan leaned on the bench, absently helping himself to the last of the cereal in the bowl beside him.

"Are you going on patrol tonight Daniel?"

"I think so, don't really have a good excuse not to. Its no fun without you though. I miss watching you pulverize people." Dan tossed a piece of cereal at Rorschach's head.

"Ennk..."

The peanut butter puff dropped into his lap, and the masked man retrieved and promptly devoured it. "I could go with you, for company." he replied pragmatically.

Dan chuckled. "I don't think so Ror, you'd just be in the way." He could see his partner's posture shift at the remark, and his expression softened. "Look I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put it like that, but honestly, you're doing better, but you're in no shape to follow me around on patrol."

"Bored. Tired of being in the house. Won't fight. Will just ride along, maybe walk around a little. Don't want to be stuck in here all night."

"I know, but its too dangerous. There are too many people just itching to kill you, and you're a perfect target like this. I mean…seriously man, it takes you like five minutes to get up the stairs without my help."

"Not that long." Rorschach grunted defensively.

"Does so." Dan snorted with a wry smile.

"Does not."

Dan laughed exasperatedly. "You're like a five year old sometimes."

"Take that as an insult Daniel."

Dan exhaled loudly, tilted his face to the ceiling, and ran both hands through his tousled chestnut hair.

"I just can't bring you along, there's no way. It's not safe. Besides, you said it yourself, you have no stamina. You'll be all tired out in less then an hour."

"Then you can just take me back, Owlship is fast, would not waste much time."

"Your persistence is amazing, you know that?" Dan shook his head. "No. The answer is still no. If you really need to get out we can go up to the roof for a while. Or we can take Archie around the city a bit, but you are absolutely not setting foot on those streets." He finished definitively.

Rorschach was quiet for a few moments, his posture suggesting he was deep in thought. Finally after a long pause he looked up at Dan and replied simply;

"Could just go out on my own once you leave."

***

It was a seasonably chilly night as Dan strode down a winding street in south Greenwich village. A suspicious looking little man dressed in blue jeans and a black zip-up jacket, hood pulled up to cover his head, walked slowly at his side. Dan initially did not want to agree to this, but soon after the two of them set foot on the gray Manhattan sidewalks it became apparent that this was not a patrol. This was him taking Rorschach out for a walk. Once Dan came to think of it as just a 'walk', it did not seem like such an awful idea. He reasoned that a small amount of exercise was good for Rorschach, and in no time he'd be exhausted and ready to go home.

Dan was amused by how he had to continuously adjust his stride. He forced himself to walk at an awkwardly slow pace, trying not to loose his partner as they wandered aimlessly down the cluttered streets of the lower west side. It was early evening, not even nine yet. The autumn days were growing so short that the sky was black by seven o'clock now. It was a pleasant, crisp, fall night, the air seasoned with the dinner time fragrance from various ethnic restaurants along the narrow streets. Dan liked this part of town, it was smaller and tighter then other areas of the city, mysterious and intimate. He did not feel as exposed in the lower west side as he would in midtown, walking down the sidewalk in full costume, trying not to draw attention to his partner.

Dan paused yet again to allow the slow hooded man to catch up with him, smiling at the way he tried to hide his obvious limp.

"Alright back there slow-poke?" He teased.

"Yes. Fine." Rorschach rasped, stubbornly trying to hide signs of pain or fatigue.

Dan put an arm around his shoulder when he finally caught up to him, giving the slim body a light shake.

"Ha, ha, that's our little terror of the underworld! You're a trooper my friend."

Rorschach grumbled something unintelligible in response, trying to shrug off Dan's boyish display of affection. As he pulled away he was taken by a momentary spasm of coughing, dry and painful. Dan's eyes narrowed behind his goggles as he watched the smaller man hiss and rub his side, hacking a few more times into his cupped palm before finally continuing to limp down the sidewalk. It would be time to get him home soon.

"Need something to drink?" Dan asked, leaning over to rub his partner's back, frowning at the way he could feel each breath rattling in the body beneath his palm. Rorschach twitched away from his touch. Dan smiled coolly. His cantankerous friend had come to accept these affable gestures when they were alone, but being out in public was another story. He was instinctively in 'Rorschach mode' again.

"Yes…could use some water…or better, something hot. Coffee, tea…Chest is tight." The shorter vigilante replied hoarsely.

"I could make some back in Archie, but I think there is a place right around the corner where I can get you a coffee. Decaf? Its late." Dan asked with a gentle smile.

"No…regular is fine. I will be tired enough."

"Ok, you got it buddy."

The pair rounded the corner and sure enough there was a small coffee shop a few doors down. Dan felt a slight twinge of embarrassment at the prospect of walking in and ordering a coffee in full costume, but it would not be the first time, and at least for now it was not a crime to be a vigilante.

"Will wait out here Daniel." Rorschach said as they approached the shop.

Dan chewed his lip. "I dunno… Maybe you should come in with me. I don't like you being out of my sight."

"Will be right here, you can see me through café window."

"Fine… I'll only be a minute." Dan turned to enter the shop, giving his partner one last quick glance before stepping inside.

"Daniel!" Rorschach stopped him.

"Yeah?"

"Lots of cream, lots of sugar."

Dan cracked a broad grin. "Of course."

The shop was brimming with a noisy bohemian crowd and there was a jazz band playing near the back of the narrow space. Dan nervously looked over his shoulder to see the little hooded figure still standing on the sidewalk just outside. He did not like that he could not hear anything out on the street with the band playing. As expected, he drew countless looks, and was almost instantly the center of attention. _This was a bad idea…Should have just found a convenience store. _He thought to himself as a cluster of curious NYU students approached him. He quickly averted their fascinated stares and went straight for the counter.

"One medium coffee please. Lots of cream,… four sugars…or.." Dan looked at the size of a medium cup. "Make that five...and to go please." The barista nodded tritely, sensing Dan's desire to get out of the shop as quickly as possible. Dan liked him immediately. He prepared the drink swiftly, handing it over to Dan with a knowing smile. "Coffee's on the house Nite Owl. Preferential treatment for New York's favorite hero." Dan grinned brightly and gave the barista a half salute before turning to head for the exit. Carefully he wormed through the curious crowd, trying his best to get out as quickly as could without shoving anyone. Politeness it seemed, was an unshakable trait in him. Finally he forced his way past the last gaggle of students and through the door, the crisp night air feeling marvelously open and free by comparison.

"Ror--"

Dan's heart felt as though it stopped cold.

"Rorschach!!" He gasped, whirling around to look up and down the street. His mind instinctively looked for a fedora and trench coat and he had to remind himself it was a man in jeans and sweatshirt he was looking for, he could be anyone.

"Rorschach!!" he called out again rushing down the dark street, still carrying the cup of coffee, his mind too panicked to consider what to do with it.

"Damn it, Damn it, Damn it!" He swore as he hurried a few blocks down, dropping the beverage, his eyes frantically scanning the sidewalks.

_I wasn't in there long, he can't be far._ His mind raced, trying hard to think logically. He stopped short, drew in a deep breath, and tried to relax, tuning every finely honed sense to the hum of the city around him. Then he heard it, a shuffling coming from about ten feet behind him, sub-level with the sidewalk. He spun around to see an unlocked, steel cellar door leading down below an old tenement building. Without a moment's hesitation he descended the uneven stairs.

The basement was a long, slightly crooked, cement and stone corridor, laced everywhere with dust and cobwebs, lit only by a single, sickly blue-green, flickering florescent bulb. It smelled horribly of cat piss and mold, and was hopelessly cluttered with old furniture, and various other household odds and ends. There was a noisy boiler at the far end, and two ancient looking doors.

"Who's there!? Dat you Nite Owl?" he heard an angry voice with a heavy Brooklyn accent snap from somewhere in the room.

"Rorschach!" Dan called out, ignoring the voice.

"Daa-" A very muffled tell-tail rasp broke through, but was quickly stifled.

"Shut yer mouth ya runty bastard or I'll cut yer throat now!"

Dan heard a familiar snarl in response. _This guy has a hell of a lot of nerve bringing Rorschach into a room like this. There a thousand things he could turn into a weapon here. _He thought to himself as he moved carefully forward, one step at a time.

"You come one inch closer Nite Owl, and I fuck'n swear… I'm going to blow yer little bitch's brains out." Dan froze. The image of the little Ukrainian girl flashed behind his eyes. This man was cornered. What was to say he wouldn't do it. Criminals these days seemed to care as much about destroying him as they did personal gain.

"Heh, heh, heh… dat'a boy …now get the fuck out! You'll be hearing from my people…We'll let ya know how much we want for this mother-fucker."

"I know better then that. There's no ransom on Rorschach. He's priceless. Every gang boss on the east coast wants to be the one to off him. Your boss is paying you plenty for this." Dan growled.

"Yeah, so what if he is? You come a step closer, and way I figure, there's nowhere fer me to go. Might as well take this prick with me, good way to go down." The gang thug chided.

It was possible the thug heard about the Ukrainian girl and was bluffing in an attempt to conjure the experience against him. Unfortunately, it was working. Dan's nerve was shot. His better judgment told him this man didn't even have a gun, after all, he had initially threatened to cut Rorschach's throat, not shoot him. Now however, anxiety got the best of Dan and he was unable to force himself to proceed against the risks.

"Ya know, yer not as smart as I thought you'd be Nite Owl. I was tail'n you two fer blocks. Thought I'd have to make a diversion to get 'ol inky here alone. Never figured you fuck'n deliver im to me." The man taunted. _This bastard's got balls, I'll give him that._ Dan thought bitterly.

He cleared his head, trying to figure out the best way to proceed. Quietly, he lifted his fingers to his goggles and switched on the infra-red night vision. The room lit up in ghostly shades of grainy green. He could make out a hot spot behind a precariously stacked shelving unit about twelve feet ahead of him. He could be there in one swift lunge, but still he was on edge. He imagined Rorschach, slumped against the wall, his forehead blown open, ink and blood oozing down his face. He'd never forgive himself if he let it happen again, this time to his partner. The dank room was silent with the exception of the humming boiler in the back. Dan could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, he was angry and frustrated, and disappointed in himself for allowing this to happen. This guy was nothing, just Brooklyn muscle attached to a sorry excuse for a brain. This should be easy, but Dan was faltering, his courage shot.

Out of the tense silence a loud _'SNAP' _rang out.

"What da Hell?!" The thug swore in shock.

Suddenly the room was pitch black, the lone florescent light cutting out. This was immediately followed by a painfully loud crash and the sound of various metal objects clanking noisily in in the subterranean space.

_Rorschach, you clever bastard. _Dan thought with a smile as he darted forward. With his goggles, he could still navigate the pitch black room without difficulty. He closed the gap in a split second. The criminal, suddenly panic stricken, stumbled hopelessly over the clutter in a desperate attempt to make for the exit. Dan caught his wrist and wrenched it behind his back hard. He heard the clack of something being dropped, too light for a gun, likely a simple switchblade.

"You had a lot of nerve thinking you could get away with this." Dan hissed in the man's ear, pushing him roughly against the uneven brick wall.

"P-please...D-don't...Don't kill me." The thug begged piteously, all his bravado gone.

Dan's lips twisted up into a sadistic smile. He enjoyed making this man squirm, reveled in the punishment.

"You're lucky this time, cross him again, and I promise…You won't live to talk about it."

Dan proceeded to bind the thug securely to some exposed pipes along the wall, giving him one final backhanded slap to the head before leaving him.

He turned to look for Rorschach. In the hazy green of his infra-red vision he made out the shape of a man kneeling on the floor a few feet away with his is arms tied behind his back. Dan wasted no time finding a flashlight in his utility belt, and rushed over to his partner's side.

"Rorschach,…You okay buddy?" Dan knelt Down beside the smaller vigilante. His wrists were tightly bound behind his back, his mask pulled up part way exposing his mouth, and he was gagged with a dirty, blood-stained strip of cloth. Dan worked quickly to cut away the bindings. As he pulled the cloth from his partner's mouth he noticed his lip was split and bleeding, red smeared across his rough jaw.

"Ah Hell…look at you…" Dan muttered, running his thumb over the bloodied cheek. "Lets get outta here. This place stinks."

He helped Rorschach to his feet, carefully assisting him out of the dismal basement.

"Want me to carry you back to Archie? It'll be faster that way." Dan offered as they slowly made their way down the sidewalk.

"No…Not in front of civilians."

"Alright." Dan laughed. "Hey, what was that 'snap' sound before the lights went out? What did you do?"

"Rat trap. Set it off with my foot. Then managed to kick power cord out of the socket, knocked over shelves. Was trying to create a diversion.' Rorschach paused. "What was wrong with you in there Daniel? Should have known he didn't have a gun. Stupid criminal, big talker, nothing else."

Dan sighed and shook his head. "I don't know Ror,… I was just scared. What if he wasn't bluffing? I'd never be able to live with myself if I let you down like that."

"Hurm…Loosing your nerve Daniel."

"Maybe…but some chances aren't worth taking. I couldn't risk it." Dan smiled and then added with a chuckle; "You're priceless, you know?"

Rorschach snorted in reply.

"You are!" Dan replied giving his partner a light squeeze. "You're my best friend."

The smaller vigilante grumbled something, and Dan grinned. Despite everything that went wrong that night he was happy. In that moment, he felt as though all things were as they should be, like old times. It could have been the 1960's again. Two young heroes where returning from a hard-fought crime bust, brothers together under the Manhattan sky.

"What happened to my coffee Daniel?" Rorschach inquired curiously.

"Ahh… I dropped it. Shame too, the guy at the coffee shop was really nice. He must like us costumed heroes, didn't charge me."

"Nice to know some people still appreciate us." The smaller vigilante mused softly.

Dan nodded. "Indeed it is..."

As the disheveled pair slowly made their way down the long New York sidewalks, Dan shut out all the noise that had clouded his mind in previous days.

-

_Tonight there is no Keene Act. There are no voices insisting he is mad. There is no need to worry about the future. All the world's issues are just cases, problems we can solve. Tonight it is the 1960s again, and we are partners._

-

_-_

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Author's Notes: This was one chapter that I actully did'nt really know what to do with. What I initially had planned seemed boring and redundant. So I came up with something new, and it ended up being a personal favorite. I hope you all enjoyed it too. This was a fairly 'happy chapter' all things considered. The next one is fluffy too, after that....no more happy chapters. :(

-Jackie


	19. Chapter 18

Dan forced himself to wake up early on Friday morning. It was no easy task, eight am was an hour he rarely saw, but he had important errands to run, and he wanted to be up and out of the house before Rorschach noticed. With considerable effort he managed to do it, and was showered, shaved, and ready to go about his day before the clock struck nine.

The coffee he picked up from the shop on the corner, coupled with the brisk morning air, cleared the fog from Dan's brain as he walked briskly south to the garment district. As his senses sparked back to life, he began to feel a little giddy with anticipation. He had received a call the day prior that the second of the two suits he had ordered for Rorschach was ready to be picked up.

His decision to purchase two suits for his partner was based on the notion that given their 'line of work' it would be advantageous to have a spare. He placed the orders at separate garment shops in an attempt to keep suspicions down, worried that buying more then one violet pinstripe suit could be seen as strange. At both shops he said the order was a gift for his brother, since the measurements he gave were so obviously not his own. Neither salesman seemed to care in the least why he wanted the garment, and Dan was grateful for that. He had a feeling he was more nervous then he should be, and reminded himself that nobody knew who he was, and the simple act of buying a suit was not a dead give away.

The first of the two garments arrived days ago. Dan picked it up while Rorschach was napping and hid it in the back of his closet. He decided to wait until the second suit came in to give them to his friend, partially out of fear that having a readily available uniform might lure the ever independent Rorschach into an early departure. Now however, with the second uniform complete, Dan could no longer resist the temptation to present his gift to his partner.

He arrived at the shop shortly after it opened. Still self-conscious, Dan made a point of dressing as plain as possible. He wore a simple burgundy V-neck sweater over a cream colored button-down, and a pair of chocolate brown trousers.

"Hello Mr. Erickson! Daniel Dreiberg, You called yesterday to say my order was ready to be picked up?" Said Dan pleasantly as he approached the counter.

"Ahh yes Dreiburg, Just a moment." The older man shuffled off into the back room, returning minutes later with a garment bag.

"The indigo three piece pinstripe suit correct?"

"Yes! That would be it." Dan replied enthusiastically. He unzipped the bag and peered inside, pleased to see that everything appeared to be correct.

"Ahh, and I see you paid the full balance when you placed the order, so you are all set sir. Thank you for your business, and I do hope your brother loves it." The man said with a good natured smile.

Dan nodded with an irrepressible grin. "I think he will."

After exiting the garment shop, Dan turned down 37th street on his way to another store, this one specializing in Italian leather goods. Dan knew that he was possibly over doing it, that Rorschach would likely be angry at him for going to such lengths, but he could not help himself. Something felt very honest and good about being able to do this for his friend, and he hoped that in some capacity it would show how much he cared.

Dan was glad that the garment bag draped over his arm was opaque. The nervous side of himself did not want to be seen purchasing a brown trench coat and a purple suit on the same day. At the second store he looked over the various colors and styles of coats until he found one that looked just about the right shade of brown. He lifted the hanger and tested the weight. Rorschach would not like it if it were too heavy. It was not. He tried it on in his own size, checking how flexible the arms were and how warm it was. _Perfect _He thought to himself as he tested the coat. The leather was supple and smooth, creased easily with his every movement, and it was an ideal shade of coffee-brown, just as Rorschach's last coat had been. Elated with his find, he took it off and replaced it on the hanger before proceeding to find his partner's size.

Dan was just about to check out when he noticed one more thing he still needed to get for his friend. On a table near the register was a display of scarves. He looked them over before selecting a just barely off-white cashmere blend. It was possibly the most intimate of all the gifts. The fabric was decadently soft. He knew Rorschach had never allowed himself such a luxury in his entire life.

It was almost lunch time when he arrived home, and he wondered if Rorschach was awake yet. He set the two large garment bags over the arm of the couch before proceeding to hide the box containing the scarf in the hall closet. He wanted to save it for last. Pleased that his partner did not appear to be up and about yet, he rushed to his bedroom to retrieve the first suit, then quickly padded downstairs.

When he reached the first floor he was taken by surprise to see his partner curiously examining the white garment bags on the sofa, his blotchy ink face tilting in his usual inquiring manner.

"Ah! Rorschach! I thought you were in your room!" Dan stammered as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"No. Was in dining room, eating cereal. Never used that table, always ate in the kitchen. Thought I'd try it out."

Dan raised an eyebrow. He scarcely used the dining room table for anything other then sometimes to spread out his papers when he was composing an essay, but Rorschach was, as always, a strange individual. It did not surprise him in the least that he would go eat in there simply because he never had.

"Uh yeah, sure. I mean, that's what its for. We could have dinner in there tonight if you like."

"No, kitchen is fine." The smaller vigilante looked back at the garment bags in front of him. "What is this Daniel?"

Dan blushed, he felt suddenly very nervous about the presents, worried his partner might see the act as patronizing. He was not the sort to willingly accept hand-outs.

"Um..those are…They are for you. This too." He stumbled over his words as he set the first suit down with the other one and the coat.

"New uniform?"

"Yeah, I told you a while back I ordered a replacement for your old one. Go ahead. Check them out. Let me know what you think."

Rorschach paused. His silence that maddening. Dan fidgeted with the button-up under his sweater, it suddenly felt far too warm, and uncomfortable.

Slowly, timidly almost, the masked man unzipped the lighter garment bags containing the suits. He pulled them out one at a time, holding each of them up and examining them in a manner that Dan found very curious. The feared vigilante seemed to _know_ how to look at them, in a way that most people do not look at clothing. The way he studied the seams and ran his fingers over lining, it was as if he possessed an understanding of their construction that was beyond the average person.

"These…are very nice Daniel…You have spent too much on me." He whispered shyly.

"No! …don't even mention it. I have it covered, its fine." Dan shook his head and discreetly grabbed the box containing the cashmere scarf from the closet, hiding it behind himself as he took a seat on the arm chair across from the smaller man. "Go ahead, open the other bag."

Rorschach's every movement gave away the great extent to which he was nervous. Being freely given things like this was more then he could comprehend. Dan reveled in his complete and utter shock as he removed the fine leather trench coat from its bag. He held the garment hesitantly, as a child holds something that it knows is very valuable, fearing the simple act of touching it could somehow be wrong.

"This…This is too much Daniel. C-Cannot accept… Did not earn--"

"No. You have earned it. You have watched my back for ten years Ror. I'm saying 'Thank You'."

"B-but No…You watch me too…You saved my life…I...I do not deserve…" Rorschach bumbled clumsily over ever syllable, his raspy voice weak with astonishment.

"We've been there for each other a lot these past ten years…but the point is, I'm your friend. I want to give you a gift. I want you to be warm and protected when you are out there. I want you to have suits that are easy to move in, and a coat that fits comfortably and will hold up for years to come. I _can_ give you these things and I _want_ to." Dan said, looking straight into the ink blot face, his eyes warm and earnest.

"I--"

"Here, one more thing." Dan pulled the small box from behind his back.

"Danie--"

"Just open it."

With a trembling hand the smaller man accepted the plain white box and proceeded to very slowly lift the lid. He carefully removed the impossibly soft scarf and ran his calloused fingers lightly over its silky fabric.

"So soft, Cashmere?" he whispered hoarsely without looking at the tag. Dan was again surprised by his strange and apparent knowledge of clothing and fabric. The smaller man shook his head slightly before lifting it to meet Dan's eyes.

"I know you don't really allow yourself any luxuries, but I thought a nice scarf like that would feel good now that its getting cold." Dan said gently.

Rorschach remained silent for what felt like an eternity, until finally he cleared his throat and replied simply, in a way that said he could not find words to properly express his gratitude.

"Thank you Daniel."

Dan nodded and laid a warm hand on his friend's shoulder.

"You're welcome."

As Dan went about making lunch for the two of them he suggested that Rorschach try on the suits to make sure they fit. The smaller vigilante agreed with a slight nod. Dan could not help but find the sudden shyness endearing. Generosity, it seemed, was so foreign to him that he was uncertain how he should act, his movements becoming all at once more timid and starkly innocent. He was reminded immediately of when he had given him the grappling hook gun, years in the past.

Dan peaked over his shoulder, leaning back so that he could see into the living room from where he stood at the kitchen counter.

"How do they fit?" He called.

There was a momentary pause.

"First one, perfect…Second, jacket and vest are fine,…pants, a bit long."

Dan strode into the living room, drying his hands off with a towel.

He couldn't stifle a small chuckle at the sight of his partner standing there, smartly dressed in a beautifully tailored suit, with the exception of the slacks, which were crumpled a bit around his ankles.

"Damn, you have such short legs." Dan teased.

"…can't help it." Rorschach replied quietly, with a touch of insecurity.

Dan walked over to him, testing their heights against each other.

"You're such a little thing." Dan laughed, shaking his head. "I didn't notice so much when I only saw you in uniform, but flat footed you're what? Five-five?"

"Five-six." The smaller man said with a touch of defiance.

"Ha, Sorry man. You use your size to your advantage though, you're fast as all hell out on the streets."

"No need to console…"

"Well, what about the pants? They look like they're about an inch too long still. Damn, I gave them the right measurements, how did they mess it up?" Dan sighed looking down at the bunched fabric over Rorschach's bear feet.

"Tailors will err on the long side…difficult to fix something that is too short."

"Should we pin them first? Then I can take them back?"

"No need."

"Really? You think they'll be alright with shoes?"

'No…Can fix them myself."

"Huh? Really? They're such nice pants,…you want a good hem on them…" Dan replied incredulously.

"…Know how to do it. Do you have a sewing kit and an iron?" Rorschach asked as if it was the most normal thing in the world for New York's most feared vigilante to know how to hem dress pants.

Dan stared at his partner with a very puzzled expression.

"Uh yeah…Yeah I do…hang on…"

He returned a few minutes later and set up the ironing board, placing the iron and a little brown box containing simple sewing supplies on top of it. The only time he could recall opening the box himself was once or twice to fix a button. It was beyond weird to think Rorschach knew what to do with it.

"You're looking at me strangely Daniel…How do you think I got my face? Sewed that. Much more difficult then hemming pants." The masked man said as he went about pinning the slacks to the proper length.

"Hmm, guess you're right," Dan replied with a tilt of his head, watching as his partner worked, thin hands handling the garment with an odd confidence.

"Were you uh..., Were you a tailor or something at one time?"

"No,…Not truly a tailor, never that skilled." Rorschach responded softly as he ironed the hem to a tight crease.

"So you worked with clothing though?" Dan's curiosity was uncontrollable.

"Yes…" Rorschach answered, but Dan could tell by his tone he was reaching that critical point where he would begin to hold back, fearing for his identity.

"What did you do?"

"General labor, occasionally simple alterations… like hemming pants. Nobody believed I was intelligent enough to handle much more then that."

Dan frowned. It seemed that anytime a piece of his partner's life outside of Rorschach came into focus it was always grim. He imagined his friend as a low-level worker, underpaid, given little respect, his shyness mistaken stupidity. It was no wonder he wanted another identity, a second life where he was feared and powerful.

"Would you have liked being a tailor if they let you?" Dan asked sincerely.

"Probably."

Rorschach finished pinning and pressing the pants and proceeded to the couch where he curled himself into the corner and began to sew down the hem. Dan marveled at how cleverly his thin fingers worked, and wondered how he could see well enough to do it with his mask on.

"Hands are shaky…makes this a bit difficult." Rorschach muttered to himself as he worked.

Trembling fingers aside, within half an hour Rorschach had a perfectly hemmed pair of dress pants in hand. Dan took them from him to examine the work, stunned by how hands trained to crush bones could also be so nimble and precise.

"Wow,…Damn! This is amazing!" Dan gaped.

Rorschach fidgeted a little, giving away a touch of embarrassment.

"If…If you have any pants that need fixed…I can do it...In exchange for new uniform." The smaller man said with the utmost bashfulness.

Dan could not help the broad smile that spread across his face. It was just too much. Rorschach, the deadly Rorschach, was offering to hem his pants. He could tell the extent to which his partner was embarrassed by this, but also that he wanted to do something, anything, in return for the gifts.

"Actually I do."

Dan returned from his bedroom moments later wearing a nice pair of khakis that were easily an inch and a half too long. He stood there in his living room watching as Rorschach worked, mask up to his nose, a few pins sticking out of his mouth, and thought to himself with a touch of sadness;

_Walter…you should have been a simple tailor, going about a quiet life. If only there weren't so many other forces bent on destroying you, on turning you into the train wreck that 'Rorschach' is becoming… if only…_

"You could still do it you know…" Dan said, looking down at his friend as he pinned the pants to the proper length.

"Do what?" The black and white face looked up, tilted quizzically.

"Find a job as tailor, have a normal life. Take your face off. Stay here."

The swirling ink gazed up at him for a long time, dry lips just barely parted, and Dan could feel the internal turmoil like humidity before a storm. Walter was screaming, clawing at Rorschach, begging him to just say 'Okay'.

"You could…I'd like having you here."

Rorschach bit down on his lip and shook his head. As he bent to continue his work Dan thought he could see the thin shoulders shudder with a long ragged sigh.

"I'm…sorry Daniel…"

Dan watched as Rorschach finished pinning the pants, thoughts flowing rampantly in his mind, a distinct tightness forming in his chest. Although he knew 'Walter' and 'Rorschach' really were just two sides of one coin, he could not help the feelings of bitterness towards one half, and desperate affection towards the other. Walter was always there, a little ghost under the surface, a dead thing desperate to be revived, but frightened into submission by a world built on horrors. Rorschach, the construct, the ever present superego, loomed over Walter at all times, reminding him of every sin, every atrocity, every abuse, every perverse and mind-numbingly vile thing ever done to him. So Walter crumbled every time, letting Rorschach take over, too scared to return, even in the face of what he wanted most.

_God Damn you to Hell Rorschach… _Dan thought to himself coldly.

_But why bother the curse?… Its where you're going anyway if you don't let him go..._

-

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Author's Notes: Okay so I lied. That chapter was not entirly happy. It does end on a rather sad note. But it was mostly fluffy I think...Tis the end of fluff though dear readers. --sigh-- and If this fluffy chapter felt a little stale to those of you who are itching for more drama, do not fear the next one is on its way, and may even be early! I already have it started. Dark times ahead folks. The end is Nigh (only 4 more updates to go!:O ).... and there are also some more fic-related arts up on my LJ if anyone floats by there from time to time. :)

-Jackie


	20. Chapter 19

Rorschach was in his usual spot at Dan's kitchen table, poring intensely over the Saturday gazette. It was mid-afternoon on a cool misty day that threatened rain constantly but never truly delivered more than a drizzle. Dan was busying himself about the kitchen, preparing a quick lunch for the two of them. He was proud of how good he had been about cooking over the past three weeks, managing to stay clear of the usual greasy take-out that he would settle for out of laziness. Rorschach needed better than that if were to recover his strength. As Dan set an apple on the cutting board, he allowed himself a quick glance at his partner.

The peculiar masked man was intently focused on the paper, his gaze only breaking occasionally to lift a hot mug of coffee to his lips with a slightly shaking left hand. He was coming around, slowly but surely. It was only a matter of time before he disappeared. Dan wondered if he did leave how long it would be before he showed up again, dressed in full costume, ready to take on the criminal underworld. _Not as long as his body needs. _Dan thought to himself, knowing his partner's patterns all too well.

Dan halved the green apple on his cutting board, then quartered it. It was just beginning to feel so natural, these lazy afternoons spent together, two bachelors sharing a home with far more space than one person needs. He ran the knife along the inside of each slice, removing the tough, seedy core. He tried to imagine life continuing like this, the two of them meeting in his kitchen after waking from the sleep following patrols. They would discuss the previous night while he made coffee, and kick around strategies for the next. They would go about their days, killing time however it is nocturnal beings do, crossing each others paths every now and then, coming together most evenings for dinner before patrol. And perhaps one day it would all change. One day when they were too old to keep up with the criminals, or when the laws willed it, they would hang up their masks, but continue their life together in his home. Two ordinary friends sharing a house far too large for one. Walter would return to the garment district, and he to his intellectual pursuits, and it would be a quiet life, a good life, nothing to be ashamed of.

"Egomaniacal liberal treachery…" A characteristic low snarl cut through Dan's idyllic fantasy.

"Huh?"

"In the paper…Ozymandias…Interviewed. Vomiting up his self-indulgent rhetoric for foam-mouthed reporters. Was a hero once…just an ink whore now." Rorschach gestured to the page laid out in front of him. Adrian Veidt stared up from the paper, smiling, his face just as beautiful under the antique charm of the black and white press as in glossy magazine color.

"He's not so bad Ror… He still wants to do good I think. Like us. He's just going about it differently now." Dan replied softly.

"Says he engineered a giant mutant lynx as a companion. Strange…"

"Maybe he just wanted an interesting pet?" Dan shrugged, trying hide the slight tightening of his posture as he recalled the creature, gorgeous and terrifying.

"He could have any animal in the world…Why build one? Action is suspicious. Indicates secondary motive. Should consider investigation."

Dan rolled his eyes. "Here we go…" He breathed, the words scarcely audible.

"Hurrn?" Rorschach looked up, not quite catching what Dan had said.

Dan cleared his throat as he brought the apple slices to the table along with a bowl of tuna salad and a few rolls.

"Adrian is a good man Rorschach. He's one of us."

"Not anymore."

"Don't you think that's being a little harsh? He's done a lot of good over the years as a vigilante. Maybe he just wanted to quit while he's ahead. Move on to…other things…find new ways to save the world." Dan retorted as he took a seat across form his friend.

"Don't like where you are going with this Daniel." The black and white face was fixed on Dan from across the table, and the smaller vigilante remained still, not reaching for the food put out before him as he usually would.

"I- I'm not going anywhere with it. I just don't like you being so hard on Adrian. He's not a bad guy."

"Adrian? Since when were you so familiar?"

Dan stared and his partner blankly for a few seconds before furrowing his brows and tersely reaching for a roll. His movements were quick with annoyance as he prepared his sandwich, and he muttered coolly under his breath; "Would show you the same familiarity if you'd let me…"

Rorschach was silent in response, and still did not reach for the food.

"You need to eat." Dan said flatly. "You need three meals a day to get your strength back. None of these hunger strikes on account of stubbornness."

The smaller vigilante only offered one of his strange guttural grunts as a reply, and after one last obstinate pause he began to make himself a sandwich.

"That's better." Though still feeling irritated over his partner's accusatory statements, Dan managed a smile. He was in no mood to argue. "Eat some of the fruit too…its good for you."

Rorschach let out a snort almost akin to a laugh and reached for an apple slice. "Of course Daniel. Would not want to be sent to my room without dessert."

Dan smirked. "Yeah, yeah…You can joke all you want… Just be happy someone's look'n out for ya."

***

The television droned on in periphery of Dan's consciousness as he dozed lifelessly on the couch. He paid it little attention, hoping to grab a quick nap before patrol. He rolled over, burying his face comfortably into one of the many worn pillows. He laid there for a few long drowsy minutes until he became aware that he was a bit chilly in the light tee-shirt he was wearing. He sat up, blinking blearily, and reached for a blanket draped over the arm of the sofa.

Rorschach was seated across from him on the arm chair, wrapped up in a quilt, notepad on his lap. He wasn't writing though. His face was fixed squarely on the television screen. Dan paused as his fingers closed around the blanket and he looked to see what program it was that had his partner so occupied.

A well known news correspondent was seated across from a smart looking woman with glasses. Dan recognized her. She was a criminal psychiatrist who lectured at NYU often. Dr. Lydia Silver. He had attended one of her seminars out of curiosity, after all he did deal with a lot of criminals himself. Dan had liked her stances on rehabilitation, and psychiatric care for the convicted, but he immediately wanted to change the channel. He knew what was coming.

Dan heard his partner release a sound akin to a low snarl as she spoke of 'reintegrating criminals into society with proper supervision and therapy.' He winced. He did not want to tread on this territory, he knew it was a place where his liberal sentiments would clash with Rorschach's usual unmoving right-wing stance. He stood to change the channel.

"No, I'm watching this Daniel." Rorschach said in a low voice as Dan's hand reached for the dial.

"Oh come on Ror,… Its just going to get you all angry. I know how you feel about people like her, and I'm not in the mood to listen to your rant right now…Lets just watch something else…Something less…volatile." Dan replied with a touch of irritation.

"Rant? Don't think I'm ranting."

"You will be with in the next few minutes I'm sure."

"Hurm…Assume you agree with this woman?"

Dan flinched. He had purposely tried not to bring his own opinions into this, to change the channel before he was forced into the debate, but somehow, Rorschach managed to start it anyway.

"Are you just itching for an argument today or something?' Dan said in a vaguely accusatory tone.

"No. Just conversing."

Dan rolled his eyes. "If you must press this, than yes. Yes I do agree with a lot of what Dr. Silver has to say about criminal rehabilitation, but I'd really rather not get into it with you now."

"Hurm…You _would_ think that scum can be washed clean…"

"What's wrong with that? Is there something wrong with wanting to believe that problems can be solved, and that broken things can be fixed?"

"Unrealistic, naïve. Like all liberals. Soft."

Dan felt a surge of heat rise to his face. It was that cold monotone that drove him mad, emotionless yet condescending.

"Whatever…" He muttered, positioning himself stiffly on the couch.

"Been agreeing with them more often lately Daniel, not sure where you stand. Curious, that's all."

"Where I stand?!" Dan retorted fiercely. "What? So if I don't stand on the far far FAR right with you, you're going to quit being my partner or something? Is that it?"

"No. Not at all…Opposite perhaps." Rorschach's raspy voice remained calm and level, and in Dan's frustration the tone was as infuriating as his words.

"Oh ho ho, I get it now. This is all going back to your paranoia over the Keene Act going through isn't it?"

"Not necessarily, might not matter. You might just quit anyway. Been hinting at it."

Dan's mouth dropped incredulously. It was not as if the thought wasn't crossing his mind far more often these days, but that Rorschach was stewing over it like this, filing away ever moment where he had perhaps vaguely implied that he might not be able to keep this up forever, it took him aback. He knew that crime-fighting was important to Rorschach, that the relentless crusade meant everything, but he also knew it was destroying him, killing Walter day by day. What was so awful about wanting to salvage what little humanity they had left and enjoy a normal life?

"I probably will quit one day Rorschach. I can't do this forever, and neither can you. We both have to hang up the masks eventually." Dan replied quietly.

The smaller vigilante's posture stiffened and Dan knew he hit a nerve.

"You are right Daniel, cannot do this _forever. _Will die one day." The smaller man growled.

"Oh for Christ's sake Rorschach, you are such a stubborn son of a bitch." Dan said with an exasperated sigh, turning his face to the ceiling in frustration.

"Do not appreciate lewd language. Or your sniveling liberal cowardice."

"Cowardice?!" Dan snapped. That was a direct insult, and his composure began to crack. "Look Ror, I don't want to fight with you. We've been--"

"Don't call me that."

"Call you wha--?"

"You swear at me, then call me by your pet name. Disrespectful." Rorschach's voice was low, hinting a threat.

Dan's chest tightened in a combination of profound hurt and anger.

"Do you have any idea how much I compromise for you? How many times I just suck it up and deal with your bullshit because I don't want to set you off?" He was on his feet now, his gestures becoming quick and heated.

"You are disgraceful Daniel. You compromise for everyone. Not just me."

"I'd appreciate it if you would stop insulting me." Dan replied sternly.

"Not insults. Truth. You agree with Veidt and his nihilistic visions, agree with woman psychiatrist and her childish utopian remedies, who will win your compromise next Daniel?" The smaller vigilante's tone was cold and venomous. Dan's brows furrowed and his fists clenched. He tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm himself against his partner's cruel onslaught.

"Childish utopian remedies?…Forgive me Rorschach. Forgive me if maybe I saved some hope for people like _you_." Dan whispered, his words all at once fierce and sad.

"People like me?" His partner's reply was low and frigid. "What are you implying Daniel?"

"Only that you are compulsively violent, angry, and dead set on self-destruction…Not so different than your so called 'scum'…So pardon me if I cling to a soft, liberal, mindset that allows me a little faith in your humanity." Dan spat bitterly.

Rorschach was up now as well. The two of them were standing in the center of his living room, a tense gap of roughly five feet between them. The smaller man was staring him down, his posture tight, as if he were facing off against any of their countless adversaries.

"Always thought you were on my side Daniel. Mistaken. Think I'm crazy just like Hollis Mason does… What do your liberal sentiments suggest? Should I be locked up? Drugged brainless in an institution? Would that be good for me?"

"I never said that."

"Implied it. Implied many things. Implied you'd quit. Implied Veidt made the right choice. Implied I am mad and stupid like everyone thinks I am."

Rorschach paused. Dan eyed his bony hands curling tightly into fists.

"Was this part of your _plan_ Daniel? Keeping me here? Did you think you could break me? Tame me into some sorry wretched thing for you to care for? Make me soft like you?" The masked man hissed spitefully.

There was some truth in Rorschach's accusation but it didn't matter to Dan. After all of his selflessness, after every day structured solely around healing his partner, after each and every tenuous and beautiful moment of perfect, innocent, friendship, the statement sounded like pure treason.

"You would think that. Paranoid, heartless, thing that you are…" Dan snarled. "There always has to be an ulterior motive. You just can't accept kindness."

"Know better than to trust what people call kindness. Tool of manipulation. Won't be fooled. Not like you. Know better. Not stupid. Not naïve."

"Just shut the fuck up. You are such a selfish little bastard, you know that?" Dan spat.

"Selfish?! Would give my last breath to bring justice to this thankless city…Not like you…You will run away. Turn your back, close your eyes. You will live selfishly in this comfortable house while people are raped and murdered." The ink blotches flowed feverishly over the white face, indicating the rising heat beneath the latex.

"Enough Rorschach…" Dan wrenched his eyes from the face, looking instead to his own body, to his white-knuckled fists shaking at his sides.

"There you go again Daniel. Always this spineless retreat. Sickening." The smaller man chided callously.

"Just stop…please."

"Won't stop until you give me a straight answer. Are you going to quit Daniel? Is that what you want? What you want for both of us? Want us to shrivel up into dishonorable husks of what we once were. Selfish, selfish, selfish…Makes me sick..."

"Stop now…"

"Running, running, always running Daniel. Look me in the eye and _say it_. Admit you are a coward."

"Stop… now…" Dan's voice quivered. His body was trembling uncontrollably, horrible images racing behind his closed eyes. Blood, everywhere, all over Archie, all over his hands, all over the face of a dead child, all on the walls now, the floor, the ceiling, death everywhere. Rorschach years into the future, a victim of his own persistence, his tired, weary, body too old to keep up, pounded into the asphalt, beaten and raped until he dies choking and sputtering for the sadistic pleasure of some victorious villain. Or perhaps it would be the police, dragging him down, bludgeoning him senseless as he screeches like a rabid animal in the night. Or maybe he'd just be devoured by his own madness, fading away into a deranged drooling, decaying thing slumped in some reeking corner of a subway stop, unrecognizable under the disease and filth. Uncompromising, to the point of self destruction. No hope for him now. Too late. It was always too late.

"_SAY IT DANIEL!" _Rorschach demanded, his voice ruthless and deranged.

Dan lashed out, reaching for his partner's arm, but he was intercepted in a flash, Rorschach's claw-like hand catching his first and middle finger. Dan's eyes were instantly wide with rage and terror as he felt the full force of Rorschach's retaliation, the reflexive jamming of the digits back in opposition to the knuckle, absolute intention to dislocate bone from bone. In a lightening fast, desperate rebuttal, Dan's left fist found The masked man's jaw, sending the weakened body sprawling across the hardwood floor.

Dan stumbled backwards, clutching his injured hand to his chest, his eyes squinted tight. Through the pain he managed to move his fingers, apparently he had thrown Rorschach just in time. They were likely sprained badly, but not broken. This did nothing to stifle the burning sense of betrayal in his chest. He lifted his head slowly to glare at the man he called his partner with livid, smoldering eyes. The small figure was crumpled on the floor, trying to lift himself, but failing, his weak body dizzy from the hit, his limbs clumsy and unwilling. A momentary rush of guilt rose in his chest, but Dan swallowed it hard like bitter medicine, his left hand closing tighter around his sprained fingers. Rorschach deserved that. His eyes were burning as he stared furiously at the other man, and they betrayed him, tears welling up and spilling freely down his reddened cheeks. It only served to fuel his anger further, he wanted so badly to appear strong and resolute.

"I've had it with you!" He cried in a ragged, disjointed voice. "I've had it…No more… I can't fucking take it any more! I- I... I _tried _Rorschach! I tried so God-damned hard to save you!…and you still, you still just throw it back at me. You're a fucking hopeless mess!"

Rorschach was still on the floor, but he managed to lift his face to meet Dan's, the fluid ink offering nothing in response.

"…and I…I'm done..." Dan choked. "I can't do it anymore…"

"Daniel…" Rorschach rasped, still trying to lift himself to his feet.

"NO! Don't you start that now…Just shut the fuck up and listen to me…I'm leaving. I'm taking Archie and I'm going away…I don't know where…but when I get back…You had better be gone." It took ever fiber of Dan's being to keep his voice level. Tears continued to drip freely down his face, but his eyes were sharp, clear, and resolute.

"Da-" The small crumpled man on the floor began.

"I don't ever want to see you again."

With that Dan turned away from Rorschach and staggered towards his basement stairs, offering not so much as the smallest glance over his shoulder as he pulled the door closed behind him.

-

Alone on the cold hardwood floor in the center of an empty living room, Walter stared blankly at the place where Daniel had been standing. His mouth was full of blood but he scarcely noticed, swallowing it down without a thought, adding to the mounting sickness rising in his stomach. In that moment all things were laid bare and he was left with only the bottomless, dreadful truth, radiating outward like a shockwave, echoing in the silent abyss, all that was left of a place he could have called home.

-

-

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Author's Notes: Well, once I started this chapter I just couldn't stop. So its super early! I thought about withholding it a few days, but then I thought that was silly. I have a busy week ahead of me, and the next chapter is the second 'Rorschach' chapter (Ror always takes me a bit longer to write then Dan.), so sadly the next update with likely not be for at least a full week, but its coming! Sorry to leave you all on a cliffhanger.

-Jackie


	21. 2nd Interlude

The man left alone in the living room of Daniel Dreiberg's four story brownstone was not Rorschach. In that void, silent and dreadful as a tomb, only Walter Kovacs remained. It was as if Rorschach, victorious in overcoming both Daniel and Walter, had disappeared to celebrate his triumph.

The antique clock in the corner was the only sound in the empty room, its hollow wooden ticking marked each second, long as an eternity, vacant as death. Walter's gaze was locked on the space where Daniel had stood only minutes earlier. His friend had been furious in a way Walter had never seen, his kind brown eyes fractured and full of livid fire. Betrayed.

"I'm sorry Daniel…" Walter finally managed to choke, his voice so weak that even in the near perfect silence it was all but drowned out by the ticking clock.

"I'm sorry…" He was crying softly now, a small crumpled thing on the floor, his thin arms wrapped tightly around his body as he began to shake. His throat clenched and he gasped helplessly for air. He tore off his mask, and as he did he paused to look at the beautiful bleeding patterns of ink on latex; Rorschach's face. But for the first time ever it looked demonic, more black than white, The face of a man who hurt Daniel, who had committed unforgivable treason, and destroyed the most precious thing he had ever known.

Walter thrust Rorschach's face away, unable to stare into the emotionless patterns any longer. He turned back to where Daniel had been. He tried to picture his departed friend standing there, a smile like sun after the rain, eyes like the dawn after a nightmare, extending a gentle hand to lift his sore body from the floor, to pull him close and tell him it was all forgiven and he still loved him. The vision came to his imagination in precise clarity, summoning up an uncontrollable fit of sobbing, for he knew it was a lie. Daniel would never look at him that way again. It did not matter how pathetic he was now, that he wept like a battered and abandoned child, he was entirely alone, the sole witness to all his shame. This was not Rorschach, this was Walter Kovacs, a sorry shadow of a man, kneeling before an empty space as if it were an altar .

_Daniel is gone. Hates Walter now. Hates Rorschach now. _

_Hates you. _

_Hates you like everyone else does. _

_Ugly, wretched , whoreson. Only useful as Rorschach's disguise. Not good enough for Daniel. Never good enough for Daniel. Better this way…_

"No!" Walter coughed up a strangled moan, biting back against the reasoning within his own brain.

"No…not better…"

"I…"

"I…need…"

"…him."

Walter pitched forward, curling into a ball as the full weight of what had just transpired finally came crashing down around him like an avalanche. Daniel was gone. No matter how much he needed him, Daniel did not want Walter anymore.

A sudden queasiness pooled in his stomach, and Walter desperately forced his aching body to its feet. He had committed enough treachery against Daniel that night, he would not be sick all over his floor. He staggered as fast as he could manage towards the kitchen, warm, foul tasting saliva filling his mouth. He stumbled helplessly across the slick tiled floor and frantically flung himself at the counter. He vomited violently into the sink, his entire body lurching forward, each spasm beginning deep in his belly and rushing up to the very tip of his tongue. Every time he gagged his ribs felt as though they would break again, the searing pain driving him blind as his weakened body threatened to turn itself inside out with each heaving convulsion. He threw up everything inside himself until all that was left was bitter yellow bile, and even then he continue to retch and cough, gasping for air between his body's merciless contractions.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the spasms in his gut subsided and Walter slumped down against the sink, panting. His muscles felt like jelly, and it took all he had to keep himself upright as he lifted a bone-white, trembling hand to the faucet, turning on the cold water. He rinsed away the mess he had made before leaning forward and tilting his head sideways so that the water ran into his open mouth. When he had washed away the vile acidic taste as best he could, he allowed himself a moment's pause. He looked around. Everything in the house echoed Daniel, and he suddenly felt the desperate need to flee. He had to get out. He was unwelcome now, an ugly stain on Daniel's life.

At first Walter considered making swiftly for the front door, running out into the chill night just as he was, barefoot, and dressed only in light pajamas. But a small fragment of reason remained in his swirling consciousness, and he headed for the spare bedroom instead. After the fight with Daniel, and the subsequent sickness that followed, he was scarcely strong enough to drag himself to the second floor, requiring a long pause at the top of the stairs to catch his breath before proceeding to the room that he called his own for nearly three weeks.

Inside he found the clothing Daniel had bought for him. He hesitated. A part of Walter did not want to take the two perfectly tailored suits, or the beautiful leather trench coat. He did not deserve such gifts, especially now. However, another part of him could not stand to leave them, they were from Daniel, all he had left of his only friend. Haphazardly he changed into his one pair of blue jeans. He could not risk looking like Rorschach, there was no way he could defend himself against the criminals that were surely on the hunt for the ink face and violet pinstripes. He pulled the coat on next, and then found his shoes and hat. Clumsily he gathered up the few articles of clothing he had, and stuffed them in one of the garment bags with the suits.

The last thing he reached for as he headed to the door was the creamy cashmere scarf, folded neatly on the dresser. As Walter's fingers touched the feathery fabric his chest constricted and he sunk his teeth into his lower lip. His insides twisted as he wrapped the scarf loosely around his throat. The gift was like a manifestation of Daniel, soft, warm, comforting; far too fine a thing for the likes of Walter Kovacs. In spite of the bitter guilt he felt at taking it with him, it was more then he could bear to leave it behind.

As Walter made his way down the stairs and toward the front door, he was unable to reason whether or not he had forgotten anything, all he knew was that he had to get out. The garment bags were heavy, and in his exhaustion they would be difficult to carry the many long blocks to his deplorable apartment. On the coffee table near the sofa there was a crumpled wad of cash and some odd change that Daniel had emptied from his pocket earlier. It was hardly anything, but it was enough for cab fare. The thought of stealing from Daniel was disgraceful, but Walter knew his former ally wanted him gone, and would've likely thrown the money at him just to accomplish this. Reluctantly, he took the bills and shamefully shoved them into his pocket. Last of all he retrieved Rorschach's face from where he had cast it off on the floor. He could not bear to look at the sacred object as he stuffed it unceremoniously into his coat and made for the front door.

The damp night air was freezing when Walter stepped out onto the slick sidewalk in front of Daniel's brownstone. A light misty rain was falling, and the street smelled of damp leaves, wet concrete, and decay. He lifted a shaking hand to hail a yellow cab, something he had not done in years. When one finally slid up along the curb, Walter allowed himself one last look at the home that could have been his. Daniel would return soon, and Walter would be gone.

***

The hundred year old tenement building where Walter rented a tiny one room apartment was as foul as it had ever been. Enormous black cockroaches skittered out around his feet as he ascended the four flights of warped and crooked stairs to the top floor. All around him Walter could hear the choir of the damned singing from behind the crumbling plaster walls. A screaming child, the deranged ranting of a sick old woman, two men arguing about drug money, a woman moaning in a way that could either have been from pleasure or agony or both. Walter shut his eyes, and swallowed hard. He could feel a bleakness settle deep in his heart. Hell opened its gates and welcomed his return.

_Where I belong._

By the time he made it to his apartment door Walter's vision was blurring, pain and exhaustion fogging his senses. As he turned the key he could hear quick, angry footfalls approaching him from behind. He winced. He knew what was coming.

"Kovacs!" An awful shrill voice rang out. "Where the hell have you been?! Your rent is late! I was ready to have your sorry ass evicted!!"

Reluctantly, Walter turned to face his land lady, Ms. Shairp. She had recently taken over the building, when the previous landlord, her father, past away. She was a nasty tempered woman, and Walter, probably because of his quietness, was a favorite target of her aggression. She was dressed as distastefully as ever, and despite the fact that she was visibly pregnant, she held a lit cigarette casually between the fingers of her right hand.

"Was visiting…family…" Walter lied, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"Rent? Do you have it?" She spat and took a long drag off her cigarette.

"Just a moment." He replied and pushed the door to his apartment.

Walter set his things on a battered wooden chair beside his tiny kitchen table before limping laboriously over too his closet. He had to stand on his toes to reach all the way to the back of the top shelf where he retrieved a worn shoe box. Inside there was a crumpled wad of cash. Walter did not bother to count it. He knew that he'd be lucky if it were sufficient. He returned to his doorway and extended the money to his disgruntled landlady, hoping it would be enough to spare him her ranting fury. He watched with tired, dead eyes as she impatiently counted the bills, her face twisted up in disgust at how wrinkled the money was.

"You're five dollars short, Kovacs." She narrowed her eyes and glared disapprovingly.

"Apologies…will have it next month…" He replied softly.

"You better, Kovacs. You're a filthy, lousy, tenant, you know that? I should'a had ya evicted…Dirty son-of-bitch…" She grumbled irritably and stalked off, puffing away the last of her cigarette.

As soon as she was gone Walter dead bolted the door and stumbled over to his narrow, cot-like bed. He fell onto the dingy gray sheets, and pulled a ratty knit blanket over himself. It was cold in his apartment, the window frames were rotted and drafty, and the glass was cracked. He curled up tightly and hugged his one lumpy, flattened pillow to his chest, and buried his face in the musty fabric. The springs in the thin, worn mattress dug into his sore flesh, and he longed to be back in Daniel's guest bed, so warm and decadently soft. His body ached terribly, and the pain was enough to keep sleep from coming, regardless of how exhausted he was.

Lying awake in his cramped, foul smelling, frigid apartment, Walter tried to think of nothing. He tried to empty his mind and allow himself to drift away into a black and dreamless void, but it would not happen. Against all hope, all desperation, there was only Daniel in his tormented mind.

He curled tighter, squeezed his eyes shut. His shoulders quaked. Tears burned under his strained eyelids.

It was the merciless end of a good dream. Walter was wide awake, the bleak reality of all that was and all that never would be bleeding out before him like black ink onto pure white paper.

***

Morning came, but the sun did not. Walter woke after what could not have been more then two hours of fitful sleep. He could hear the rain pattering against his window. His room felt as it always did in bad weather: damp and bone-chilling. He shifted under the sheets. He felt weak and drained, his joints ached and he was certain he was running a fever. He rolled over and pulled the blanket around himself tightly as he could. There was no need to get out of bed.

***

It was late afternoon. Walter finally relented to his body's urges and staggered out to use the bathroom. When he returned he was freezing, desperate to get under the covers again. He knew it was cold, but not _that _cold. He was undoubtedly running a fever, wracked by chills, all at once sweating and shivering. As he paused to get himself a much needed glass of water, his eyes fell on his trench coat, hanging over the back of a chair where he had left it. On top of the leather was the scarf Daniel had given him. His dull eyes fixated on the object. He lifted it with a white, icy hand and wrapped it about his neck before crawling back into bed.

_Daniel…_

_He'd be making me tea now…_

_Blackberry…_

_With honey…_

_Forcing me to take medicine…_

_I'd be annoyed…_

_He'd be persistent…_

_He would take care of me…_

_He would fix me…_

_He would be patient…_

_He would be gentle…_

_Everything would be alright…_

_Not now…_

_Rorschach ruined everything…_

…_I ruined everything…_

_***_

Another morning came. Walter was staring up at the ceiling, outside he could still hear rain. It was his single comfort. The sky, it seemed, saw fit to weep with him, the only witness to the desolation of his ruined heart. Fixating on the gray-green ceiling above him, Walter felt like a ghost, a dead thing forced to suffer among the living, denied release. He reminded himself that he had died along with a little girl months ago, and if by chance any shred of him survived, it most certainly was murdered by Rorschach when he betrayed Daniel. So it was that Walter was damned, deprived of freedom, still lingering in the spaces between, a conduit for the emotions Rorschach did not need or want, but nothing more than a phantom of a man.

"Where are you, Rorschach?" He wondered aloud.

He wanted only for the black and white entity to return, to claim him as he did when he murdered Gerald Grice, allow Walter Kovacs to close his eyes, disappear into the abyss. He was forsaken, a spirit denied life or death, betrayed by the omnipotent puppet master of his existence, wrecked and unable to function.

"Why have you done this to me?" Walter whispered, his voice faint and pleading.

"I have been everything you have needed me to be…I have forced my body to do things one of its size and capacity should not be capable of…I have killed…discarded my humanity…existed only as a disguise…bent to your every ideal…and remained silent as you committed unforgivable treason against the only person I love…and still…you leave me to decay in the wake of your actions…"

Walter closed his eyes. There was no answer.

***

It was night, what time, or how many days had passed since Rorschach had forsaken him, Walter did not know, but it was dark and relentlessly cold. He awoke huddled against the wall, his body wracked by uncontrollable shivering. In his sleep he had pulled the blanket tight around his shoulders, consequently exposing his feet, and now he could scarcely tell he had toes. He curled his knees to his chest, balling himself up the best he could, and released a long shuddering sigh. He felt his stomach twisting up inside himself. He had not eaten in days, and he knew he was still badly anemic, but there was no money in the box to buy food, and he was far too weak to apprehend a criminal to get more. He swallowed hard as another agonizing spasm ran though his sunken belly. There was no end to this torture, and there was nothing he could do, no way to get money, no way to get food. He would rather die than beg, still wanting to keep what little dignity he had left. It was then that the realization slowly crept out from the periphery of his consciousness: _this could be the end. _

_Withering here…_

_Alone…_

_Pain…_

_Only pain…_

_Am merely Walter…_

_Small and wretched…_

_Rorschach has left…_

_I can't…_

_Can't do this anymore…_

_I…_

_I just…_

_Want it to end…_

He clutched the cashmere scarf to his chest and wept piteously in spite of himself.

_Just want it all…_

…_to end swiftly…_

_***_

Walter was standing on an old railroad bridge that spanned the distance between northwest Queens and Randall's island. The structure was known as the 'Hell Gate Bridge'. It was named after the passage of water it spanned, given its ominous title on account of a swift and unforgiving current. Walter no longer believed in Hell, or Heaven, but he appreciated the poetic irony of the name considering why he was there. It was the perfect place to bring closure to a wholly lamentable lifetime. The bridge was not made for pedestrians, so there was nobody to bear witness to his act. He could leave the world as unceremoniously as he had entered it.

It had taken every scrap of energy Walter had left to make the journey from his apartment to the bridge, first riding the subway out to Queens, then tracing the railroad tracks until he was positioned at the center of the structure. It was evening, and the sky was perfectly clear, fading from deep azure blue to milky twilight yellow to burnt fiery orange behind the soaring skyscrapers of Manhattan that stood starkly silhouetted to the west.

Walter sighed. His blue eyes scanned the horizon, and he felt strangely detached. The pain was still there, his heart still felt like a lump of lead heavy and unyielding in his chest, but he was sedated in his reason. It would all be over soon.

_Just need…_

It was unseasonably cold for October, and the water below him was high from the recent rain. Walter knew there was a possibility the fall would not kill him, but if he survived it, the frigid river would finish the job. He was far too sick, starved, and depleted to handle the icy current. Still, his pale eyes scanned the Manhattan skyline.

_Need to see you…_

A train rushed behind him. The beams quaked beneath Walter's feet, and he clung to a massive steel support to keep from being shaken off his perch. The deafening roar throbbed in his ears as he braced himself against the chill girder. Black water rushed ominously below, beckoning him.

_No...  
_

_Not yet…_

_Just need…_

_one last look…_

Finally the train was gone, leaving blissful silence in its wake. Walter opened his eyes and released his hold on the steel beam. He stepped out as far as he could before risking a fall. The wind rushed about his slender frame, causing the leather of his coat to flap loudly about his legs, and his scarf to flutter in and out of his line of sight. The fierce wind burned the skin on his face raw, but still he waited. His icy irises were focused on the east river and the darkening sky above the island city, searching for a familiar aircraft. Once he looked upon it, took in its glowing orbital eyes, gazed unseen from afar upon the only person he loved, he would be ready.

_One last time…_

_Just need to see you…_

_One last time…_

The moon was rising over the island, and the metropolis glittered with a beauty that masked all its sin and hopeless depravity. The diamond lights reflected in Walter's dead eyes, and he was a mirror of the city itself, the same soul twisted up and buried in the broken vigilante's tragic heart. In the pocket of his coat he held his hero's face. His fingers curled around the fabric, but Rorschach remained silent. Still no answer. Walter sighed as the breeze ruffled his rust colored hair, and he waited.

-

_one last time..._

_-_

_all I need._

-

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Author's Notes: Only one more real chapter left! :O There is going to be an epilogue chap though! Anyhow, hope this chap did not absolutely drown you guys in angst. I was fighting for air in the angst pool writing it that's for sure! Alright everyone, remember to hug your favorite ginger-hobo today. Wally needs it.

-Jackie


	22. Chapter 20

Author's Notes: Here it is! The last real chapter. I wanted to include this image here, in case readers do not know what the Hell Gate bridge looks like. Its such a haunting structure I want everyone to have the proper mental image. :) You can see Manhattan and the Triborough in this image too, so it should give you all a nice idea of what that area looks like.

http :// farm3. static. flick r . com /2046/1497554647_980ad7ce88 .jpg

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Dan's first impulse had been to leave the country: Fly away and return days later, tanned and sedated, memories of that horrible night burned away by the sweet Mediterranean sun. He had even charted the course as his hovercraft ascended from beneath the murky waters of the East River. His fingers nimbly danced over his keyboard, pinpointing a sun-drenched strip of shore on an island off the southern coast of Greece. He tried to picture himself, dressed in a breezy white button-up, talking candidly to a lovely waitress in a coastal pub, drinking wine and eating cheese and cured olives.

As the Owlship cruised swiftly over Long Island, leaving the sinful metropolis behind, Dan continued to force-feed himself the fantasy. He needed to think about anything. Anything other than what had just transpired. Anything other than the throbbing fingers on his right hand. Sunlight. There would be sunlight in Greece. He just needed sunlight, a ticket out of what felt like the eternal night of New York City. He tried to swallow it all down as the open horizon of the Atlantic came into view, but slowly, as such things always do, the truth came slithering back. In spite of his efforts, seeping up like black water through the cracks of a sinking ship, Dan's own words from scarcely two weeks prior rose up from the depths of his heart:

"_Well, you're invited now, to the next place I go, where ever it is. I mean it. We're friends after all."_

_We're friends after all. _

"Were we ever?" He whispered aloud.

A part of him wished the answer was no. That way he could push his partner of ten years thoroughly out of his mind, like a former coworker, who, once their job together was finished, would no longer be part of his life. But as much as he wanted it to be that simple, the growing pain deep within his chest told him otherwise. Little bits and pieces of conversation and fractured moments one by one began to replay through his mind. They were at first fragmented and interrupted, as if obscured by static, but as his defenses crumbled under the weight of realization, they flashed through his memory in hauntingly lucid brilliance.

_Rorschach is tossing a piece of cereal at his head. _

_The terror of the underworld is standing barefoot in his kitchen, dressed in loose cotton pajamas, drinking coffee and asking innocently if pancakes would be too much trouble for breakfast. _

_Uncertain hands tremble as they touch cold glass. A full moon hangs above, a disk of shining silver in a deep cobalt sky. "Beautiful…perfect…" _

_A murderer who would like to have been a tailor offers to hem his pants. The voice is shy. The insecurity is palpable. As he looks at the smaller man his heart breaks. _

_Rorschach is shaking in his arms. A nightmare fades._

_Dinner on the roof. Warm lingering summer air. Rorschach is watching from a lawn chair as he slices onions. _

"_Hell only exists here with the living, and there is no place in it for you…" his partner tells him with a sincerity most can not manage in such situations. _

_A man called Walter is sobbing in his kitchen. "Don't leave me..." the man chokes through tears. _

_They are high above the city. He sits gazing at the star-like lights in silent repose. Rorschach begins to panic. He finds strange pleasure in this. He likes seeing him frightened. Human after all._

_His partner is eating cereal from a plastic cup, swiveling idly on a desk chair like a little boy._

"_Lots of cream. Lots of sugar."_

_In an ally a shot rings out and he can breathe again._

_They are having breakfast, and Rorschach tells him that he is thirty-five years old. _

_They are drunk: he is singing, Rorschach is laughing. He is happier than he can ever remember. _

_An injured man stumbles out onto cool blue-white sand. He is wrapped in a feathery cloak. The waves crash endlessly._

_A creature known for nothing but fury and vengeance clings to him as he carries his weak body up the stairs. He has a heart like a bird, fluttering rapidly beneath his translucent skin. _

_A man who is not Rorschach whispers his name: "Daniel." It is spoken like a prayer on the lips of the dying. _

"_Thank you…Daniel."_

"_Daniel…please…take me with you tonight…"_

"_I'm sorry…Daniel…forgive me…"_

"_Daniel…can't see…Daniel where are we… where are we…?" _

Dan's heart caught in his throat.

"It doesn't…" his lips scarcely moved as he breathed the reply.

"It doesn't matter where we are, just hang on…" He swallowed hard.

"I'm here with you."

His head fell into his hands.

"What have I done?"

***

Dan tore up the steel stairwell from the Owl's Nest. He could feel his pulse throbbing under his skin, his breath harsh and ragged in his lungs as he flung open the kitchen door. His eyes searched frantically. Vacant silence. He wasted no time as he ran desperately from one room to the next, the first floor, the second, third, fourth. Finally he found himself staggering out onto his rooftop, the October wind rushing through his hair, cool and vaporous. There was no one. The house was empty. He was alone.

_Too late._

_I was always too late._

"God fucking damn it!" Dan choked as he slumped bitterly to his knees.

***

Rain fell with unending persistence the following day. Dan had considered looking for Rorschach, but he did not know where to begin. Finding Walter, a faceless man in a crowd of millions, was impossible. Defeated, he spent the chill afternoon at his kitchen table, downing one steaming mug of tea after another, craving the liquid warmth as if it could some how be an elixir for his remorse.

In spite of his guilt, Dan still had not forgiven Rorschach. He was not that repentant. He still felt, decidedly, that his response to his former partner's actions was only natural and human. Rorschach had done precisely what he had promised he never would. He broke the tenuous bond of trust between them that Dan clung to in spite of all the warnings, all the worry and concern. Hollis was right after all.

Dan sighed as he spooned some honey into his tea. It did not matter: whether Rorschach was a good man or not, Dan could not forget 'Walter'. Walter was always there under the surface, often he was entirely hidden, completely silent within the masked man, but in the moments that he was revealed, it was like a ruined little boy stood where a monster had been. Dan's heart twisted at the thought of what pain his words most certainly had caused that fragile creature.

Dan had never worked up the courage to use the name. He wondered now, sipping his tea alone as the driving rain pounded his window, what would have happened had he done it. The only outlet had been his little pet name for his partner: 'Ror'. It had come out so naturally, and when he used it, he felt like he wasn't talking to Rorschach anymore. He was talking to the human being inside of the ink-faced illusion. The moment Rorschach had snarled at him, forbidding him to use the name, Dan knew that he was no longer permitted to speak to 'Walter'. Of all the terrible things said that night. "Don't call me that," may very well have been the worst.

The kitchen was lit only by the muted gray daylight from the window above the sink. Dan's dull brown eyes gazed out past the rain-flecked glass, and he wondered where Walter had fled to. Was it warm where he went? Did he have any money for food? Would be able to take good enough care of himself to complete his recovery? Dan sighed miserably and rubbed his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger. He surmised the answer to all these questions was inevitably: no.

_This is not how it was supposed to end. _

_Not like this…_

The kettle was screaming. Dan turned off the gas and refilled his mug.

***

"I know you never liked him much, but you're the only person I have to talk to…"

Hollis's eyes were kind and full of sincerity. Dan could not help but wonder if it were easier for him to be sympathetic now that Rorschach was gone, but he appreciated the consolation regardless.

"I'm sorry Danny, I really am. I know he meant a lot to you." Hollis laid a hand on his shoulder and gave an affectionate squeeze.

"I just…I wish I had handled it differently. I'm still angry at him, but I shouldn't have said what I did. It wasn't true…I-"

"It couldn't be helped, you know that. Rorschach…he…he has problems Danny. It wasn't your fault."

Dan stared down at his beer. "I know Hollis…I know he's sick."

Hollis was quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed slightly. "I know I've always come off like I hated him, but…I do honestly feel terrible for that boy."

Dan glanced up.

"You are exactly right Dan, he is _sick_, he probably can't help it, and it's sad. I think you were right about him. He wants to do good, but he…he just can't get around his own demons." The old man sighed sadly and shook his head. "Poor kid. It makes you wonder what happened to him that made him turn out so loony."

"…yeah." Dan replied solemnly.

"He might still come back, Danny. You never know. If he does, just be careful, okay?" Hollis said with a gentle smile.

"He's not coming back. Not after what I said." Dan lifted the brown glass bottle to his lips and drained the remaining half in one long draught.

"He's the sort that takes everything very literally…and I told him that I never wanted to see him again…" Dan set the bottle down on the coffee table. "So I doubt I ever will."

"Want another?" Hollis offered.

"Yeah…that would be good…thanks."

***

"Aaarrgh! Fuck it, man! You got me! I surrender okay?! Just take me in, for Christ's sake!" A young burglar exclaimed tearfully as Dan smashed his face against the counter. He was in a rundown 7-Eleven on the midtown west side. The checkout clerk was backed up into a corner a few feet away, white-faced with terror.

"I th-thought you were the nice one!" the criminal sputtered, warm blood gushing from his split lip as Dan bound his wrists.

Dan glared down at the assailant, his eyes cold and merciless beneath his goggles.

"Have you heard anything about…the one I'm usually with?" He growled.

"W-What?"

Dan lifted the smaller man slightly then brought his face down hard into the counter again, eliciting a piteous squeal from his captive. He pulled him up roughly, and snarled in his ear:

"My partner. Rorschach. Have your people found him?"

"N-no, no…no one's seen him man! And-and they been look'in too. But, ain't nobody seen'im. M-my boss, he's got guys all over the city try'n to get him…They say Rorschach's in a bad way…T-Th-That now's our chance…but no. Nobody's found him yet." The thug choked helplessly, and Dan began to become aware of just how young he was, probably only around sixteen. His expression softened and he loosened his grip on the boy.

"You're too young to be fucking up your life like this." Dan pulled him away from the counter and led him over to the soft drink station where he proceeded to clean off the young criminal's face with a wad of napkins.

"Man…you're weird. One minute you all smash'n my face in. The next you clean'n me up…what's your deal?"

Dan kept a firm grip on the gang kid's upper arm as he guided him out of the store to wait on the sidewalk for the police. "Didn't realize how young you were at first." He replied pragmatically. "And…I am usually the 'nice one.' Things just haven't been going my way lately."

The boy sniffed, more blood dripping from his nose. Dan sighed and pressed a wad of paper to his nostrils, coaxing his head back.

After a while the boy spoke, and his voice was different, calm now. "You and…and Rorschach, you brothers huh?"

Dan was visibly taken aback, his hand lifting slightly from where it held the ball of napkins against the boy's face.

"S'okay man…I know how it is. But he's your boy right?"

Dan could not find a response, his lips slightly parted, dumbfounded by the young criminal's sudden change in tone.

"When I was little…I mean, you right, I ain't too grown so, this wasn't too long ago…But anyhow…when I was a kid, you guys were my heroes. I wanted to be like you and Rorschach. I wanted to be a hero with my best buddy Mike. Things they don't always work out the way ya want 'um to though." The youth's voice was wistful and distant, laden with some immeasurable pain.

Dan could feel a lump forming in his throat. It seemed like everyone had a story these days.

"How did you end up here, robbing convenience stores?" Dan asked quietly.

"Mike. He got into drugs, I didn't want the gang life, but Mike, he got suckered in, and I went with him…he was my boy after all. We were best friends. He's gone now. Shot last year. I was just in too deep by then to quit. Prison might be good for me…I ain't go'n no where good these days anyhow."

Dan pulled the paper away from the boy's nose. The bleeding seemed to have stopped.

"But you and Rorschach…you still brothers, right?"

Dan stared at the boy. There was a strange, childlike hopefulness in his voice. A police car rounded the corner. Dan forced a smile.

"Y-yeah…always."

The boy's eyes brightened . "That's good…hope you find him. You guys are still my heroes. Maybe you set me straight tonight, Nite Owl."

Dan nodded and gently transferred him over to the approaching officers. "I hope so…just be good from now on okay?"

"I'll try," The boy said simply as the officers pushed him into the back seat of the car. Dan appreciated the honesty in the reply. He wanted to believe that the boy would succeed, but he knew in his heart the best anyone could do was to try, and hope that somehow the path would become clear. To try to be good. What more could one ask of his fellow man?

Dan walked slowly down the Manhattan streets, through the vaporous clouds emitted from the subway vents, past the poor and the homeless. He was done for the night. Emotionally drained, he sought only the comfort of his home, in spite of its lonesomeness. His mind wandered with each tired footfall. The youth's question hung in his mind.

_You still brothers, right?_

"Always."

***

Nearly a week had passed since Dan had last seen Rorschach, and finally after five straight days of rain the air was crisp and clear, excellent flying weather. Each day he worried about his former partner, but reminded himself with every disparaging thought that what was done was done, the best he could do now was carry on with life. He slid into his uniform, considering his plan for the evening. He had no major leads and from what he could hear over the police scanner the city was quiet so far.

The visibility was excellent as his ship broke free from the East River. Dan could see far beyond the city to New Jersey in the west, and Long Island to the east. He exhaled reverently as he took in the serene beauty of the deep blue twilight sky. It felt like so long since he had seen a clear horizon. He cruised along the river, finally setting the ship to hover near the south end of Manhattan. It was a place near the Brooklyn Bridge where he could see the Statue of Liberty silhouetted dark against the fading sunset. He leaned forward and tuned the police scanner, then reclined in his seat. He sat quietly admiring the view, waiting for something worthwhile to come in over the scanner, watching the last traces of orange sunlight burn out on the western horizon.

"_Hey Jim."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Just got a call in. You're going love this one."_

"_Aw Hell…what is it?"_

Dan languidly turned to the scanner, mildly interested.

"_Guess. It's your favorite."_

"_Chirst…fuck'n jumper isn't it?"_

"_HA HA! I knew it, Jim! After that last one, man! Every goddamned time I tell you something's bad you're gonna ask me if it's a jumper!"_

"_Well, is it?"_

Dan glared at the scanner in disgust.

"_Heh…heh...heh."_

"_C'mon, Mitch…stop fuck'n around! Is it really a Goddamned jumper?!"_

"_Yeah man, sorry."_

"_Aw Christ."_

"_Ha ha! Damn, Jim, I'm sorry, man, we always get stuck with the crazys."_

Dan glowered furiously at the speaker on his control panel. "Quit joking around, ya morons! Somebody is dying out there! Just tell me where!" He shouted with mounting frustration.

"_Where is it this time, Mitch?"_

"_Here's the icing on the cake Jim. Was a train conductor that called in. Says there's a guy on the Hell Gate."_

"_The fuck'n Hell Gate?! Christ, you can't even drive out there! It's a mother fuck'n railroad bridge! How'd the guy even get up there?! You know by the time we get out there he's either gonna have done it or changed his mind. This shit ain't worth my time…Jesus Christ…"_

"_I know man! I wan--"_

"_Excuse me, gentlemen. This is Nite Owl. I'm breaking in to your frequency to inform you that you will not need to trouble yourself with the sanctity of human life this evening. I'm on it. I bid you goodnight." _

Dan scowled in disgust as he hung up the radio, spun his ship to face north east, and pushed the throttle.

The dark water of the East River blurred below as the Owlship rocketed toward north Queens. Dan was biting back fury at the police officers' apathy, and desperately hoping he was not already too late. As he neared the bridge he took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. If the man was still there, he would need to convince him that there was good in the world, and life was worth living in spite of all the suffering it brought. It was the most difficult task Dan could imagine in his current state. There was scarcely enough hope left in his heart to sustain his own existence, let alone another person's.

As he passed swiftly below the Triborough Bridge, Dan's eyes fell on the old stone and steel structure of the Hell Gate, only yards ahead now. He eased off the throttle and brought the ship in slow. As he approached the arching steel structure, he lifted a finger to the edge of his goggles and turned on the zoom. He scanned the bridge for the silhouette of a man, hoping against all reason that that he was not too late.

"Nothing…"

"Nothing…"

"Noth-- Wait…"

Dan's mouth went slack. It was if the entire planet shifted beneath him as his eyes fell on the figure of a man standing precariously on a narrow steel beam near the center of the bridge, hands in the pockets of his trench coat, scarf whipping wildly about his shoulders in the brisk October wind, a fluid black and white face staring straight back at him.

"Rorschach." Dan mouthed the name, his throat barely able to produce the vocalization, his eyes wide behind his goggles.

Dan's body seized up, his grip loosened on the controls. For a long moment the Owlship simply hovered yards away from the bridge. Inside he sat motionless, eyes fixed on the familiar mask, his mind numb from shock, unable to reason how to proceed.

"Rorschach…" he whispered again.

Dan closed his eyes tight. He inhaled deeply. His emotions steadied, his heart was resolute.

_Always…_

He lifted his head and looked upon a man who was both everything he knew and the greatest mystery the universe had to offer. Order and chaos, hope and despair, innocence and bloody guilt. The greatest hatred and the most profound love. There was no other like him. There was no other.

Dan eased the Owlship forward, dipping the craft down so that the roof was level with the beam Rorschach stood upon. Hastily he set the controls to hover and unlocked the hatch in the ceiling. His heart was pounding wildly as he clambered out onto the roof, each pulse reverberating through his veins like the iron wheels of a freight train, adrenaline coursing through him like liquid fire.

He got to his feet and faced his long time partner. His coppery cloak flapped gracefully about his commanding costumed form and he appeared like a calm and powerful phantom of the New York City night, but inside he quaked under the weight of the moment, nerves cracking with unseen electricity, his every muscle strung taut.

Rorschach stood facing him, ink face unreadable, his posture so familiar it offered up nothing.

"Rorschach…" Dan choked, his voice cracking humiliatingly. "Police scanner…it said there was a man out here…about to jump."

There was a long and agonizing pause. The wind howled. The Owlship's engine hummed.

"Was there?" Dan asked anxiously when he could no longer endure the silence.

"There was…" Rorschach finally replied, his low rasp barely audible over the wind and the ship's engine.

"Wh-What happened…where is he?" Dan begged, although he already suspected the answer.

Rorschach looked away.

"Rorschach!" Dan pleaded.

"He's still here, Daniel…still here." The masked man's voice trailed off, drowned out by the breeze.

"Still…here…? You…you…Ro--" Dan stammered helplessly.

"Daniel."

"Ror-"

"Everything is…alright now…remembered." Rorschach replied quietly.

A fierce wind rushed through the open steel beams, howling like a banshee over the black river. Dan watched in horror as his partner wavered on the narrow beam. The smaller vigilante reflexively reached out and clutched a support to his left as the wind threatened to rip him off his feet.

"Go on Daniel. Will be fine now." Rorschach said slowly as Daniel stood frozen no more than three yards away him.

"Rorschach…"

"Leave me Daniel."

"No…I…I can't"

"Not your responsibility any more…"

"No…please…just…"

"Leave, Daniel."

"Rorscha--"

"LEAVE!" Rorschach roared fiercely, his entire body shaking, but it was not anger burning under the ragged scream, it was shame. Shame and something else, something painful, raw, and unhinged.

Dan stood unflinching in the face of his partner's madness, his determined brown eyes staring down the shifting ink. In that instant he did not know that in two years a law would be passed that would make Rorschach a criminal and him a retiree. He did not know that in the final, terrible, riot-ridden months of his vigilante career Rorschach would withdraw from him almost entirely for reasons they both knew but dared not address. He did not know that the night after this law would come to pass Rorschach would appear once more in his basement, broken childlike heart still clinging to a tiny shred of hope. He did not yet know that he would shatter that heart and his own with a single statement. He did not know any of these things standing on the roof of his ship before the Hell Gate in October of 1975, but he sensed them. He sensed all these things, and he understood in that instant that his fears were meaningless. All of life was a series of moments, and even in the face of a certain tragedy, every moment in and of itself was a precious and unchangeable thing existing forever. Untouchable.

Dan ran forward. He shed all of his fear, all of his self-doubt. He was Nite Owl, he was himself. He leapt powerfully off the ship, easily clearing the distance between the craft and the bridge. He alighted on a beam only a few feet from where his partner stood, still clutching the steel support. Fearlessly he made his way towards his friend, lifting his goggles.

"Rorschach. I will not leave you here."

"Daniel…stay away…I--" His voice was breaking. Dan could hear Walter beneath the overbearing growl.

"Enough," said Dan resolutely.

"…betrayed you…" The voice that was not Rorschach's choked.

Dan's expression softened. He was close enough to touch him now. The smaller vigilante was clinging desperately to the beam, his body straining, and Dan could now see how worn and tired he was, it was taking all he had left to stay on his feet. His warm brown eyes lingered on the scarf fluttering about his partner's throat. He smiled and reached out his hand.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here with you now…"

The black and white face was tensely fixed on his open palm.

"I forgive you."

The masked vigilante lifted his head. Though Dan could not see, he knew their eyes locked. His hand closed around his partner's. He pulled the smaller man into himself in a sudden and deliberate gesture, drawing the weakened body flush against his chest, embracing him tightly as the wind whipped his cape around them. In his arms Dan felt the thin shoulders shudder, and he could tell his friend was sick, starved, and had been all but at the end of his line. Dan closed his eyes and wrapped his cloak around them to break the wind as he felt trembling, cautious hands cling to his body, nervously returning the embrace.

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

"I know…"

"You…are a good friend Daniel…I am s--"

"Shh…that's enough. Its alright now. It's over…I'm here…"

The chill night settled around them as the two men stood for many long minutes together under the rising moon until finally Dan spoke.

"C'mon, Ror, lets go home."

***

Rorschach sat quietly at the kitchen table as Dan rushed about, quickly throwing together an impromptu dinner for his weary friend. It was almost as if nothing had changed at all. Rorschach was dressed once again in a plain white tee shirt, zip-up hooded sweatshirt, and loose cotton pajama pants. Dan glanced over his shoulder to observe the smaller vigilante drizzling copious amounts of honey into his blackberry tea. He smiled. This, at least for now, was how things were meant to be.

"Red or white sauce with the pasta?" Dan inquired brightly.

"Hurm…very hungry…white is more filling. White please."

"Alfredo it is!" Dan said cheerfully, then turned back to his cupboard, searching for the jar of sauce.

"Daniel…"

"Hmm?" Dan glanced back over his shoulder.

Rorschach's posture was edgy and nervous, his half-masked face looking down at his lap, seemingly unable to meet Dan's gaze.

"What is it buddy?"

"I…" The raspy voice faltered.

Dan's eyes narrowed with concern, and he stepped away from the counter to approach his friend, but as he did, Rorschach's posture grew still more tense.

"I…want you to know…that I…I…" Rorschach shook his head, his frustration evident, his internal struggle manifest in every ounce of his being. It was Walter trying to speak, but Rorschach holding back, the words on his tongue too heavy, too loaded with consequences. Dan stood inches before him, waiting, hoping.

"…apologies…" Rorschach whispered finally, his voice laden with fatigue. "Very tired, not thinking right. Go back to cooking…" He turned back to his tea.

Dan nodded. It was what he expected, but a disappointment nonetheless. As usual Rorschach managed to stifle Walter. Dan turned to go back to preparing the meal but was halted by something sudden and unexpected. A cold hand shot out, caught his own, and held it tightly. He turned to see his partner, head bent, narrow shoulders pitched slightly forward, left hand clinging on to Dan's right.

"Daniel…just want you to know."

Rorschach could not bring himself to form the word, could not shrink away and let Walter admit the unfathomable, but Dan knew what it was that hung unspoken in the space between them. His expression broke and his eyes were warm as he reached down to lay a gentle hand on his partner's shoulder.

"I know, Ror…Its alright. You don't have to say it. I already know."

Dan gave the thin shoulder a tight squeeze before returning to the stove.

"I also know you look like you've dropped ten pounds in one week, man! We got to get some food in ya."

Rorschach nodded in response, his posture slowly relaxing.

"Will stay here tonight Daniel, maybe tomorrow too, but need to start returning to my apartment. Was nearly evicted."

Dan chucked. "Oops…ah, hell. Well, we don't want that. But you're going to come here every night for dinner until you're back to normal, you got that?" He pointed a wooden spoon sternly at the masked vigilante.

"Yes Daniel, understand," Rorschach replied with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Dan shot him an affectionate half smile. "Just be glad someone's looking out for you."

"I am," Rorschach whispered softly.

The small kitchen was quiet for a long time except for the repetitive sound of boiling pasta, and Dan's knife on the wooden cutting board, chopping the remaining salad vegetables. When he was finished, he drained the pasta and prepared two plates before proceeding to the table, dinner in hand. He set the meal in front of his friend who watched him in silence.

"Hey, are you alright?" Dan asked with a concerned smile, tilting his head a little.

Rorschach looked up at him as if awakened abruptly from a trance and offered Dan a brief nod in response.

"Yes Daniel…everything…everything is fine."

He paused, ink blot face lingering on Dan's honest brown eyes.

-

"Fine like this."

-

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Author's Notes: Well everyone, I do hope you have enjoyed the conclusion! Stay tuned though, there is an epiloge. I should have it up in a few days, it's a little shorter than the average chapter. The only thing about the epiloge is that it will end on a slightly more somber note than this chapter did. I don't want to give away where and when it takes place, but some of you might be able to guess. I debated adding after I finished this chap, because I do like the sort of happy note this one ends on, but... I feel that there is something to say in the epiloge that is important in regard to the overall theme of this entire story, so i'm going to do it, inspite of the fact that it is a bit sad. ALSO big shout out to atheneblue for beta reading this chapter! I would'nt be suprised if I still missed stuff when I was correcting it, but thanks to her I think it goes down smoother than previous chapters. You're the best AB!

* Also, if you have not read it yet, my other WM fanfic 'The Price of Guilt' continues two years after this chapter, when the Keene Act goes through, so if you'd like to know how that goes down within the world of my fic, you can read it. :)

-Jackie


	23. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

_Ten Years Later._

An endless blue ocean spread out thousands of feet below as the Owlship cruised steadily south. Dan fidgeted with the controls even though he was well aware that the course was charted and the winds were calm. It was a marvelous paradox how serene the sea looked below when all the world stood on a razor's edge.

Dan did not know what they would find in Antarctica. He could not fathom what Adrian's end game could be. He wondered what would become of Laurie, now on Mars with Jon. Would they return in time? He could not bear to think of Hollis; allowing his mind to go there would only serve to send him spiraling into grief-stricken madness, and he would be of little use in such a state. But there was, amongst all the rampant chaos, one strange and unexpected consolation, one familiar comfort amidst the mad disorder: he was reunited with his partner.

Rorschach was sleeping on the floor near the window, using a life vest as a makeshift pillow. Dan's eyes lingered on the curled body, only a yard or so away, then drifted down to his own hand. He recalled his partner's hold on that hand only hours earlier. Rorschach had held him fast, his grip strange, hopeful, and unwilling to let go until finally Dan had to pry loose the tense bony fingers. At the time he did not know what to say in response to the gesture. The awkwardness that had risen between them in their long years apart was still too present. Now however, high above the fathomless sea, far from the city and its screaming violence, Dan understood everything. Time had worn away so much of who they were in the Sixties and Seventies, but something remained in each of them, burned deep into the fabric of their being, indelible as scar tissue.

There was not much time left, and there were things that needed to be said.

Dan slid out of the pilot's seat and approached his sleeping partner.

"Rorschach," he whispered, not daring to touch him, as he might have done years ago. Rorschach's nerves were strung even tighter now than in the past. The mad vigilante's hair-trigger reaction could easily land him a broken nose.

"Hurm." Rorschach stirred and brought himself groggily into a seated position. "What is it, Daniel? Have we arrived?"

"No, no…still a while." Dan chewed the inside of his mouth nervously. "I want to talk," he said finally, his eyes falling resolutely on the inkblot face. Dan's own cowl and goggles were off for the ride, but his partner seemed keen on keeping his 'face' on.

"Good idea. Should formulate a proper strategy for when we meet Veidt," Rorschach replied with his usual grim determination.

"You're probably right, but later." Dan hesitated. "Right now I want to talk about…us."

His heart pounded in the inevitable silence that followed.

"Not much to talk about, Daniel." Rorschach whispered in a low voice that, in spite of its words, said they had _everything_ to talk about.

Dan scratched his head. He was uncertain how to begin. What words could be uttered at the end of the world to bridge a gap of nearly eight years? A gap torn open in 1977 when he quit and Rorschach did not. A gap littered with broken promises, guilty consciences, and haunting fragments of the past. Nonetheless it was their past. A past which had been mercilessly tattooed beneath their skins, forever binding them, never to wash away.

"I was thinking earlier, while you were asleep, that it's been almost exactly ten years now," Dan began slowly, already feeling clumsy in his approach.

"Ten years since what?"

"Since that month you stayed with me. You remember that, don't you?"

Dan was sitting on the cool metal floor of the ship before the massive window, only a tense foot or so of space separating him from his estranged partner. Rorschach turned to look out at the blue expanse, appearing to carefully consider his reply before meeting Dan's gaze again.

"Yes…Daniel. Remember. I remember everything."

Dan swallowed hard, his throat already growing tight. "That was…a strange time, huh?"

"Yes. Good though, in spite of my condition, I think of it as a good time," Rorschach rasped quietly, and Dan was taken aback by how freely he was willing to admit that he enjoyed those strange days. Days where the crux of their profession was laid bare like bone visible though a massive open wound.

"Yeah, me too." Dan nodded somberly.

"Daniel," Rorschach said, in a voice that commanded unwavering attention. "Where are you going with this? What is it you want to say?"

Heat raced to Dan's cheeks as his heart smashed into his sternum. He blinked once and took himself back. Ten years back. He was racing down a rain-slicked alley and Rorschach was fading fast in his arms. When he opened his eyes it was ink looking back, black and meaningless, yet somehow allknowing. Always ink.

"We were so close, Rorschach. Our blood mixed on the concrete together." Dan spoke slowly, his tone low and slightly hoarse. "I held you in my arms, while you bled out everywhere. I saw you ripped clean open, and I still have nightmares about it to this day. I felt the last spark of life dying out of you…and…you said my name. That was all real, wasn't it?"

Rorschach said nothing.

"All of that happened, and you stayed with me…and I…I remember cleaning your wounds…I remember us eating together…I--"

"Daniel. Please…in the past now…more important--"

"All that time! And before that, and after that, and always, I-" Dan lifted a trembling hand to the lazily flowing black and white illusion of a face in front of him. "I just wanted to know…"

Dan knew he was asking for a fist to his jaw for what he was about to do, but standing there, balanced on a razor's edge at the end of the world, it was a risk he was willing to take. He slipped his thumb beneath the strange heat-sensitive fabric. He had seen the face in the prison, but had been unable to look into the eyes, and time was running out. He held his breath, bracing for the blow that he was certain would come as he peeled back the swirling black-and-white fabric, revealing dry chapped lips slightly parted in an expression that almost read as ecstasy. As he slid the mask off, taking the hat with it, Dan marveled at how Rorschach remained still, eyes closed, his deep carved features set in an appearance of solemn calm.

"I suppose I owe you this, Daniel," The sullen-faced man replied softly, finally opening his eyes and lifting them to meet Dan's.

They were like cracked ice, blue and stark as a January dawn, deep set in lined sockets. Dan had looked into those eyes once before on a street corner in the rain, although he did not know they belonged to Rorschach, and they devoured him then just as they did now. The pain behind those wintry irises was immeasurable, and under their ruined gaze Dan could feel every happy illusion freeze and shatter. There were a thousand things he wanted to say but the words failed him miserably, so instead he lingered on the haggard face, with its sorry sunken cheeks and untidy ginger hair, as tears began to condense slowly along the rims of his eyes.

"Disappointed?" Rorschach whispered finally. "I told you…no one worth seeing under there."

"No…I'm not disappointed in you." Dan reached out a tentative trembling hand and cupped the worn cheek. As expected Rorschach flinched reflexively at the contact, but in what felt like an impossible gesture of surrender, he did not pull away. Dan watched in heartbroken amazement as the exhausted eyes fluttered shut and the cracked lips parted in an expression of weary peace.

"How,…how could I ever be disappointed in you?" Dan's voice broke as his thumb ran gently over a hard freckled cheekbone. "You had nothing. The world dealt you the worst hand it could, but you were always so strong in spite of it. I'm disappointed in myself. All those years. I walked right by you, pretending I was normal. And you…you were out there starving on street corners still selling your soul every night, and…I…I just walked right by."

Dan coaxed his partner's gaunt face up so that the bloodshot blue eyes locked with his again. The sunlight hit the icy irises at a sideways angle and they were lit with a cool fire. In a strange paradoxical way Dan found him beautiful in that harsh white light, beat to hell and weathered as he may have been. It was as if, bathed in sunlight, all of the ugliness bestowed on him by a cruel and thankless world was magnified to the point where such suffering became a thing of stark heartrending beauty.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Dan whispered to his best friend, returned to him at the end of the world.

Rorschach was silent for a tense span of many seconds before replying softly in what was undoubtedly the saddest voice Dan would ever hear in his lifetime.

"Only if you can forgive me…for not saving enough humanity for you…"

Rorschach reached up, took Dan's right hand from his cheek, and held it tightly in both of his own, his head bent, thin shoulders pitched forward. Dan was instantly reminded of a moment in his kitchen ten years prior, and a soft-spoken statement that even in its incomplete form resonated with all the meaning it needed.

"_Daniel…just want you to know." _

"This really could be it, huh, Ror?" Dan said with a sad and anxious smile.

"Think so. But not worried anymore. Ready now. Have what I need."

Dan rested his left hand on top of where Rorschach still held onto his right and nodded, trying so hard to smile and look brave in spite of all his uncertainty and dread.

"Yeah…partner."

Rorschach nodded in return and squeezed Dan's hand tightly as the Antarctic continent came into view, a slender strip of white on the pale violet southern horizon.

-

Two riders were approaching.

-

Two fallen heroes were born again.

-

Two masked avengers from a time long gone were about to make their last stand.

-

But beneath the masks all that was really there were two men, imperfect and damaged, who loved each other enough to stand together at the end of the world.

-

-

**end**

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Author's Notes: Here we are at last dear readers. I hope that this ending has not brought too many tears as we all know what awaits our dear friend, Walter. I'm going to make a few quick suggestions if you are sobbing now. In spite of being fangirl with tendency to lean towards a preference for 'canon' fanfiction, I have come a across a few wonderful AU stories that take it from here. 'Ordinary World' and the subsequent 'Exiles' and 'Empire' by I_Am_your_spy are beautiful, with very strong plot and direction, and are as close to perfectly in-character AU slash as I have ever encountered. 'Between the Brushstrokes' by Etherati/ricebol is gorgeously written and full of intrigue. 'Parallax' by Vaudeville, is off to a lovely start and packs a powerful emotional punch.

Although I encourage you to read these wonderful alternate endings it is my hope that this story does for you what it does for me, and that is to reconcile the canon ending of Watchmen. With this work of fanfiction it was my intention not to write something horridly depressing but to tell a possible side story. One that could in some way offer up the notion that Walter Kovacs, in spite of his bleak and thankless life, was loved and did love another in return, and that it was perhaps this love that gave him the peace of mind to face his death so bravely, knowing that he did in some way partake in life's greatest gift.

Thank you so very much to _everyone_ who has followed this story, I do not know if I would have finished it without your encouragement. Special thanks to:

atheneblue, Vaudeville, Sepulchreangel, DanceswithElvis, Avada Cait-davra, Pa-kun, and ArmoredSoul

So for now I bid you all happy reading, writing, and drawing. I will be doing much more of all three in the future.

--Jackie


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